Hope in the Dark
by Ness Frost
Summary: A mere year after the end of the Hundred Year War, an assassination attempt leaves Zuko fighting for his life and his friends fighting to save him, but this time, his luck may have finally run out... Rating for violence, including non-graphic description of severe injury.
1. The Precipice

**Disclaimer:** If I'd owned A:tLA, it would have been a lot more bloody. 'Nuff said, don't you think?

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**Shipping (since I know this can be a deal-breaker for some):** This is a gen story. I am a gen writer, and I want no part in anyone else's ship wars. As such, I'm going to do my best to keep this story as ship-neutral as possible. If, however, I absolutely cannot avoid making mention of who ended up with whom (the characters are teenagers, they're going to think about their love lives once in a while), I'm going to stick with canon, for the _sole reason_ that that requires the least amount of setup on my part. So there will be a bit of Sukka, some hints of Kataang, and mentions of past Maiko—but nothing more explicit than cuddling, a chaste kiss, and one suggestive thought on Sokka's part. What does happen is mostly in the form of easily glossed-over background events, and while I hope that won't put anyone off from reading, if that is the case you have been thoroughly warned.

* * *

Gasping, he staggered into the hallway, the one hand he held to the wall barely sufficient to keep him upright. The other hand was pressed against his side in a desperate, if mostly futile, attempt to stanch the flow of hot liquid that was spilling from in between his fingers. Every movement was agony, and already he felt himself growing faint from loss of blood.

_Help… I need help…_

Help, however, was not going to be readily available anytime soon. The guards that had been stationed outside of his door were all unconscious or worse, a fact which was confirmed when he bruised his foot on a helmet that was swiftly sent clattering away. Still, if that assassin thought that he was just going to lie down and die, then he—or she, he hadn't gotten a good look—had another thing coming. Zuko would never give up without a fight.

As determined as he was, however, he could only fight for so long.

He had made it only halfway down the hallway when his knees started to give way. Desperately, he tried to remain standing, but his legs were no longer willing to support him, and he could not find any purchase against the smooth surface of the wall; his body was growing heavy and darkness had started to creep in at the edges of his vision. Right when he thought he couldn't hold himself up any longer, he heard running footsteps.

"Zuko? Toph said that she heard—oh no!"

The last thing he was aware of was Aang's slender but strong hands coming up to catch him as he fell to the floor.

* * *

Awareness returned to him slowly, one sense at a time. The first thing he knew was that he felt lightheaded, as if the world were spinning around him even though he was sure he was not moving. He was lying on his back, on top of soft bedding. Then, he became aware that something cool and soothing was being pressed to the aching wound in his side, and that little by little, the pain was receding. He was still unable to stop himself from giving a slight groan.

"…coming to." The voices around him were drifting in and out of audibility, but got clearer with each passing moment. "Katara, can't you…"

"…fast as I can… really stubborn…"

"…wake up. Come on, Zuko, you can do it."

With effort, he pried his eyes open, and was immediately greeted by the sight of another pair of gray eyes above him, set beneath a bald forehead that was decorated by a sky-blue arrow.

"Aang?" His voice came out as a barely-audible croak.

In response, Aang grinned. "Welcome back to the world of the living, Zuko. Man, we were really worried about you for awhile there."

"Okay, I think that's the best I can do for now." Looking away from Aang, he saw that Katara was at his other side, and that she was bending a stream of water off of his skin and into a nearby bowl. "Sorry, but I couldn't heal it all the way in one session," she explained. "Your chi is still a bit messed up. I fixed all of the life-threatening damage, but… well, it was a really deep wound." With the water cast aside, she took up a jar of some sort of ointment. "Okay. This will probably sting a bit."

He nodded his understanding, and then cringed as Katara began applying the contents of the jar to his wound, which seemed to light it on fire all over again. "Wh-where are the others?" he asked, more to distract himself from the pain than anything else.

"Well," Aang said, pulling up a chair and sitting down beside him—he seemed to have taken the hint—"Toph went after the assassin. One of the guards came in a few minutes ago to tell us that she'd caught the suspect and that they're holding her in the prison." Zuko nodded. "Sokka and Suki went to check out the crime scene. Sokka got this idea that if he could figure out how the assassin got in, he'd be able to fix up the weaknesses in your defenses and keep it from happening again."

"If anyone can do that, Sokka can." Realizing that the stinging had mostly faded, Zuko turned his attention back to Katara and saw that she was now pressing a bandage to his wound.

"Okay," she asserted as she finished securing the gauze. She swiped a forearm across her brow as she stood, Zuko noted, and her eyes were puffy with missed sleep; just how long had she been awake, anyway? "That's just about all I can do for now, but I'll be sure to take another look at it tonight." As she finished the last sentence her mouth gaped open of its own accord, and she brought a hand to her face to cover the wide yawn.

"Katara? Aang?" Much as he dreaded the answer, he knew he had to ask. "How long was I out?"

"Well, you were attacked right before sunrise, so I'd say…" Aang looked out the window. "Maybe two hours?"

"Two—oh no!" Zuko had barely managed to raise himself up onto one elbow, however, before Katara pushed him back down, far more easily than she should have been able to.

"You need to take it easy," she said firmly. "You lost a lot of blood."

"But there was so much I had to do today!" Not wanting to risk Katara's wrath, he sank back down, burying his face in his hands.

"So tell us what you need and we'll see that it gets done," Katara said reasonably, heaving an exasperated sigh.

"Yeah, we're your friends, Zuko," Aang piped up. "Don't worry, I'm sure that people will listen to the Avatar just as well as the Fire Lord."

"That _is_ what worries me."

Aang only grinned. He'd barely opened his mouth to make a reply, however, when the door to the room opened again and Sokka poked his head in, wearing an expression that was deadly serious in contrast to his usually lighthearted demeanor.

"Hey, Katara? I think you'd better take a look at this."

* * *

It was _supposed_ to be a vacation.

The Avatar was back, his father was back, they'd won the war, and Zuko had reigned for a full year without incident. Everyone had thought a nice big party was in order, and so it was they'd agreed to a reunion in the Fire Nation capital on the first anniversary of Sozin's Comet. This was supposed to be a _celebration_.

Instead, it seemed that no sooner had he fallen into his bed after the long journey from the South Pole than he was awakened by shouts and a lot of rumbling earth. He came a lot more awake when he heard Toph yelling "Assassin!" at the top of her lungs.

Things had happened quickly after that. By the time he'd disentangled himself from the sheets after having fallen to the floor with all of his panicked flailing—not his most dignified awakening ever—and made it to the door, Toph was already well out of sight, but he was just in time to see Suki rush past as well. On his way down the hall, club in one hand and boomerang in the other, he'd glanced out the window to see several of the imperial guards rushing toward Toph and another person who was encased up to the neck in a wall of earth. His mind was taken off of that entirely, however, when he made it to the end of the hallway and glanced down the next branch, to see Aang half-carrying an unconscious and badly wounded Fire Lord. He remembered seeing Suki emerging from his sister's room with a tousle-headed Katara in tow; remembered the rush to the infirmary; remembered the blood (so much blood) that had soaked Aang's hands and clothing, staining his monk's robes crimson where they had once been a calming saffron yellow.

After that, everything had been a blur, a blur of blood and panic and more blood and Katara yelling at Aang for clean water and at Suki for bandages and at Sokka to sit down and stay out of the way so that she could work.

The time had crawled by with agonizing slowness. Sokka, having nothing else to do and having been admonished one too many times to _stay out of the way_, had taken it upon himself to liaise with the Fire Nation officials who came by, passing on whatever information he could get out of Katara. Which for the most part had consisted of _she's doing everything she can_ and _she needs to concentrate_, all while pushing people out of the doorway.

Eventually, they had fallen into a pattern. Aang took up a station on the side of the bed opposite from Katara, grasping Zuko's hand and whispering words of reassurance. Suki had moved over to join Sokka at his post by the door, and when she wasn't assisting Katara and he wasn't shoving yet another person out of the room, they spent the time leaning up against each other, both of them exhausted and yet too tense to sleep. Katara, for her part, continued to work in stubborn silence, pressing hands coated with healing water to the wound in Zuko's side. Whenever she needed something that was out of her immediate reach, she would specify it with a single word, and Suki would stand up to get it for her in equal silence.

And that had only been Sokka's _morning_.

Finally, after what seemed like days (but couldn't have been more than an hour and a half), Katara stood upright, pushing strands of sweaty hair out of her face and gazing around the room with blue eyes that were exhausted, but relieved.

"He's going to be okay."

At that, the tension seemed to drain out of the room all at once. Suki slumped against him, eyes drifting closed as she nestled into his shoulder. Any other time, the gesture would have had Sokka's heart pounding with excitement, but today he was too busy sagging against the wall himself to manage anything more than to limply drape his arm around her shoulders. Aang positively beamed at everyone in the room in turn, but none more so than Katara. "I knew you could do it, Katara," he said, favoring her with an ear-splitting grin.

Katara only gave him a weary smile before getting back to work; Zuko's life may have been out of danger, but the wound was far from fully healed. Aang, seeing that she was busy, turned his attention to the still-unconscious Fire Lord next. "You too, Zuko," he added as an afterthought. "You never give up, do you?"

"Yeah, well I'm just glad he's on our side now." At that moment, there was another knock at the door, and Sokka got to his feet with a groan.

"Look, my sister's working as fast as she can," he said as he opened the door, not even bothering to let the man speak. "Zuko's life is out of danger, but she still needs to—"

"It's not that, Lord Sokka, sir," he said, stumbling for a moment over which title to use for the "Water Tribe savage." "Though it's very good to hear that the Fire Lord will recover," he added hastily. Sokka motioned for him to continue, though he was unable to hold back a yawn. "We've questioned the assassin, and she's now being held in the Imperial Prison."

_That_ caught Sokka's interest. Instantly, he came to a full state of alertness. "What did she tell you?" Dimly, he noticed Suki coming to stand behind him.

"She keeps saying that the Fire Lord has done nothing but ruin her family ever since he took the throne. That's all we've been able to get out of her."

"Her family must have been profiting from the war, then," Sokka mused. His head came up as another thought occurred to him. "Hey, is Toph still over at the prison?"

"Yes, but why?"

"Think you could send word to her that Zuko's going to be okay? Thanks, I owe you one." He clapped the man on the shoulder before he even had time to reply, pushing past him through the door. "Hey, Suki, could you come with me?"

"Sure, Sokka," she said with a wry smile, tying her robe tighter around her body as she stood. Ah, well. They'd have plenty of time to fix that later.

"Hey, Sokka?" Aang's eyebrows were drawn together in a slight frown. Leave it to the Avatar to be perturbed by Sokka's apparent flippancy. "Where are you running off to all of a sudden?"

"I just want to check out the crime scene to see how the assassin got in. The sooner we make sure this can't happen again, the better." He gave Aang a smirk. "Why, what did you _think_ we were doing?"

"N-nothing! I didn't think you were going to do anything!" The pink blush rapidly spreading over his face, however, gave the lie away. Even as she worked, Katara rolled her eyes.

"Sokka, that was mean," Suki chided as they closed the door behind them. Her smile, however, was mischievous.

"Hey, he asked." He slung an arm around her shoulders as they made their way down the hall. "Someone's got to teach that kid the facts of life, and I don't think my sister is going to do it."

They both broke down into a fit of snickering at the thought. The laughter seemed to lift an additional load of tension from their shoulders.

"Besides," Sokka added as the laughter died down, and they rounded the last bend in the hallway, "we haven't had anything to laugh about all morning."

Their mirth died instantly as they took in the sight of the new guards stationed outside of the door, of the scattered pieces of Fire Nation armor and the blood that was liberally spattered over the walls and floor. There was a long, messy streak of red on the wall that started next to the door and ran several feet down the length of the hallway—that must have been where Zuko had leaned against the wall for support as he struggled to drag himself toward help.

"What happened to the guards?" Suki murmured, picking up a severely dented helmet.

"Knocked out, for the most part." A middle-aged woman came striding toward them from inside of the room. "There were a few concussions, but no casualties, and the injuries were nothing the palace physicians couldn't handle." She looked the both of them up and down. "You two are friends of Fire Lord Zuko." It wasn't a question.

"Suki of Kyoshi Island, leader of the Kyoshi Warriors."

"Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe."

She nodded once. "Chao. Captain of the Guard." Her eyes swept over them again. "So what did you come here for?"

Suki stepped forward. "Actually, we were hoping to take a look around, if you don't mind."

Captain Chao raised an eyebrow. She stared them down like that for a few seconds—just long enough for Sokka to start squirming uneasily—before letting out a sigh.

"The Fire Lord has made it clear he trusts you with his life. I suppose I should as well." She gestured for them to enter the room. "Move nothing unless you have to. We don't want the evidence to be disturbed."

"Got it!" Sokka gave her a cheery grin and a thumbs-up.

Shaking her head, Captain Chao took up a station just inside of the door, leaning casually against the wall as they began their exploration of the room. Sokka wished she wouldn't; it broke his concentration knowing that someone else's eyeballs were constantly boring into the back of his head. Still, he did his best to ignore it as he swept his eyes over the room. Aside from the things Zuko had knocked over on his way out, there were surprisingly few signs of a disturbance.

Apparently, Suki was thinking the same thing. "The assassin managed to stab him in his _bed_," she said, her hand stopping just short of the ripped and bloody sheets. "And we all know how hard it is to sneak up on Zuko. Whoever did this, she was _good_."

"Yeah, no kidding. Hey, Chao?" The Captain of the Guard raised an eyebrow, which Sokka took as a sign to continue. "How did the assassin take out the guards without making any noise? I mean, one of them should have realized what was happening in time to raise an alarm, right?"

"From what the guards told me when I talked to them in the infirmary, the attacker disabled them so fast that by the time any of them had realized what was happening, they were already on the ground. They described the attacker as striking them very quickly on several points on the body, but being completely unable to move after."

At her description, Sokka felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. He and Suki exchanged a look.

"Ty Lee's—"

"Still on Kyoshi Island. I know." Sokka rubbed his chin, grimacing at the sandpapery feeling of rough stubble; shaving, like so many other things, was something he just hadn't managed to do that morning. "She had to have learned it _somewhere_, though. Do you know if she ever taught it to anyone besides you and the other Kyoshi Warriors?"

"She's never said where she picked it up. Not to my knowledge, at least. But I do remember her saying she's never taught it to anyone before."

"Not to break up your party or anything, but would you care to enlighten me as to what you've found?" Captain Chao was still leaning against the wall, but her raised eyebrow and attentive expression showed her obvious interest.

"Maybe you _can_ help us." Suki turned to the Captain. "One of my warriors is originally from the Fire Nation, and knows how to block people's chi by striking a series of pressure points. Do you have any idea where she might have learned it?"

"Chi blocking. I've heard of it. It's an invaluable skill, but there are very few people who are fast and agile enough to be able to use it effectively."

"Trust me, Ty Lee's plenty fast and plenty agile," Sokka put in. "I've fought with her enough times to know."

"She was a circus performer before she was conscripted by the princess," Suki added. "If that helps."

Sokka continued to listen to the conversation with one ear as he poked around the room. He didn't know Ty Lee nearly as well as Suki did (besides, she creeped him out, flirting with him so much while she was trying to disable him), so there wasn't much he could contribute to the conversation beyond what he'd already said. So while the two of them were chatting, he preoccupied himself with analyzing the damage. A trail of bloodstains led from the bed to the door; a chair had been knocked over along the path, as had the nightstand, and its contents were now scattered all over the floor. A prominent scorch mark along the ceiling indicated that Zuko had at least tried to fight back. The window was open, and looking out of it, Sokka could still see the disturbed earth where Toph had caught up to the assassin and trapped her in rock.

He turned away from the window with a frown, letting his eyes rove once again over the room. There was something going on here that just seemed… off.

"Hey, Suki? Chao?" The two women stopped talking and turned to look at him. "Why do you think she didn't finish him off?"

"What are you saying?" Chao's brows were drawn together in an intense frown.

"It's just… look, it doesn't make sense." Sokka paced back to the door, careful not to step in the puddles of blood. "She starts by taking out the guards." He gestured to the carnage that was still visible in the hallway. "None of them have time to raise an alarm, so she manages to get into the room with no one the wiser. Everything is going exactly the way she wants it to." He turned around in the doorframe. "She somehow even manages not to wake up Zuko—looks like she put out the nearest torch to avoid letting any light in when she opened the door." He pointed to the nearest bracket that hung opposite the door, and sure enough, the torch it held was unlit, the wall behind it sporting scorch marks that spoke of a hasty snuffing. "So she makes it to the bed." He crossed the room once more. "The Fire Lord's asleep, or barely awake at most, and he's completely at her mercy. She manages to get in one good hit." He mimed a stabbing motion down toward the bloody sheets.

"So…" It was not a question, however, but a prompt to continue. He could tell from the look in her eyes that Suki was putting the pieces together just as he was—and that she could also tell that something wasn't adding up.

"So why did she run immediately after?" Sokka started pacing back and forth. "Zuko might have woken up, but he was still in no shape to fight back. Yeah, he shot a few flames, but they definitely didn't hit anything before reaching the ceiling." He pointed to the ceiling and the line of soot—the completely unbroken line of soot—that he'd noticed earlier. "He was out of the fight, but she had to have known it wasn't a sure thing that he would die. So why did such a competent assassin go to all this trouble, but then decide to just bet on her luck?"

A chill started to make his way up and down his spine at those words, and for once Sokka really hoped that his instinct was wrong. That the assassin was skilled but inexperienced, and thought she'd made a sure kill. That she was stealthy and a good fighter, but just didn't have the stomach for murder. That she hadn't known they'd had a waterbending healer in the palace. If, if, if…

"Chao." Suki's voice brought him out of his increasingly dark thoughts. "I'd like to see the weapon."

The Captain of the Guard snapped her fingers. Immediately one of the guards hurried into the room, carefully holding out a metal box which was unlocked and opened.

At the sight of what was inside, Sokka's insides promptly tied themselves in knots. Though his stomach had been grumbling only a moment before, he was suddenly glad he hadn't eaten any breakfast. He exchanged a glance with Suki, and one look at the hardened expression on her face told him that she also knew exactly what they were looking at.

She laid a hand on his arm. "I'm going to go get dressed. Then we'll interrogate the prisoner." Her eyes flashed.

"Right." He nodded. "I'd better tell Katara. Chao, come with me. There's something you _really_ need to know."

* * *

Sokka stood just outside the door of the Fire Lord's private infirmary. Chao had run off, cursing, just as soon as he'd brought her up to speed, leaving him to break the news to his friends alone.

Well, there was nothing for it. Any time spent standing outside the door was time wasted—time that Zuko might not have. Clutching the box tightly in one hand, he pushed open the door.

"Hey, Katara? I think you'd better take a look at this."

The moment the words had left his mouth, he cursed himself inwardly—Zuko being awake was a possibility he hadn't considered, and should have. Right at the moment he did not seem to be afraid, only confused, but it was evident from the look in his eyes that he could tell something was wrong. Aang rose to his feet, looking worried.

Sokka locked eyes with his sister. Trying to do what damage control he could, he jerked his head in the direction of the hallway.

Thankfully, Katara did not ask questions, but followed him out without further comment. Aang wasn't far behind.

Only when they had made it into Sokka's room and Aang had closed the door did he open the box. "Do either of you recognize this?" he asked without preamble.

"Um… it's a dagger?" Aang didn't seem to want to get too close to the thing, which was bloodied up to the hilt.

Katara, on the other hand, was frowning, and Sokka could tell she knew something was off… she just hadn't figured out what, yet. Wordlessly, he lifted the weapon from the box and twisted the pommel, sliding it off to reveal a hidden chamber that was filled with some kind of clear liquid.

Just like the dagger Jet had showed them when he'd been trying to pass a harmless old man off as an assassin.

"Katara, _please_ tell me you already neutralized whatever poison is in here and we've been getting all worked up over nothing."

The way that his sister's eyes widened in horror, however, did not bode well. The words she spoke after seemed to fill his stomach with ice.

"I… can't."

"What do you mean you can't?" Aang's voice was getting higher with every word he spoke.

"I mean that water healing doesn't work on poisons!" Katara was rather agitated now, pacing back and forth. "I mean, I can counteract the effects somewhat, but I can't just remove poisons from the body. Oh, no." She stopped pacing as a hand flew to her mouth. "That must have been why his chi was so messed-up."

"Katara. Is there anything you _can_ do?"

"I—yes." Letting her arms drop to her sides, she faced them both. "I can ease the symptoms, and hopefully undo some of the damage on his body. If he's lucky, he might… he might still be able to pull through."

Aang and Sokka exchanged a glance. Luck was one thing that Zuko had never had on his side.

Aang was the one who chose to break the heavy silence. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Yes." Katara turned to her brother. "Sokka." He stood up a bit straighter. "I need you to do whatever you can to find out what kind of poison was in that dagger. The more I know about what I'm dealing with, the better the chances I'll be able to help."

Sokka nodded. "Suki and I were just about to go question the assassin. I'll see what I can do."

She gave him a quick nod, letting him know that he had her trust. "Aang."

"Yeah, Katara?"

"I need you…" She took a deep breath. "I need you to get a message as quickly as possible to Ba Sing Se."

* * *

**A/N:** And there you have it: idea that's been gnawing at me for who knows how much time. This story is going to be short: four chapters plus possible epilogue, but the chapters are shaping up to be much, much longer than what I usually write.

This story is not comics-compliant, but it does draw some ideas from the comics, namely _The Promise_ and _Rebound_. Some of the same events happened but in different ways, and others didn't happen at all; at any rate, it's not necessary to have read the comics in order to understand the story.

In other news, I really enjoy Sokka as a POV character. While this story is rapidly taking a turn toward the Dark and Angsty (as my stories tend to do), it was also nice to have some small measure of comic relief.


	2. The Push

"SU~KI!"

Her hand jerked in surprise at the unexpected outburst. Not by much—she had far too much self-control for that—but it was just enough to produce a red smear from the corner of her mouth that stuck half of her face in a permanent insane grin.

Gritting her teeth, she picked up the cloth beside the mirror and began dabbing her face, trying to smear the rest of her makeup as little as possible while she removed the smudge. "If you're going to scream at me, Sokka," she began, her voice deceptively calm, "do you think you could wait until I'm _not_ in the middle of something that requires both delicacy and precision?"

"But—but _how could you be thinking about makeup at a time like this?_" If Sokka got any more agitated, she thought, he was going to give himself an ulcer. Any other time, she would have found it cute. Now, however, it only served to amplify her own anxiety, which was the last thing she needed.

_Don't take it out on Sokka_, she reminded herself. _Zuko's his friend, and he's probably even more worried than you are. _With that thought in mind, she took a series of calming breaths before she spoke again.

"Sokka," she said quietly as she reapplied white paint to the spot she'd been forced to wipe off in the process of fixing her mistake. "Do you know why Avatar Kyoshi painted her face?"

"I—" He stuttered a few times before closing his mouth, and through the reflection in her mirror Suki could see him actually pausing to think. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, she had to resist the urge to smirk. He'd probably been about to say _because she was a girl_.

"I guess… because it made her stand out?"

"Partly." Carefully as she looked, she could see no flaws in her hasty reapplication, so she replaced the lid on the white paint before taking up her lipstick once again. "After all, Kyoshi could not afford to be a mere woman when the world needed an Avatar. But more than that…" She had to stop talking while she applied the pigment to her lips, staining them a deadly crimson. The application was the work of seconds, but silence still hung in the air at her half-finished statement. "More than that…" As she finished, she stood, placing her lipstick carefully back in its place. "It was so that people could see she was serious, not only as a woman, but also as a warrior." On the last statement, she turned, eyes narrowed in determination. "I'm ready."

He nodded. "Let's go."

They walked in grim silence all the way to the prison block, their pace as brisk as possible without actually running. Thankfully, one of the guards was already waiting outside to meet them.

"Ming," she introduced herself, giving them a brief salute. "Captain Chao sent word that you would be coming."

"You got the message to Toph?" Suki asked as the two of them matched Ming's stride.

"I did. She agreed to stay here until your arrival." She hesitated a moment before letting them into the cell block. "The Fire Lord…"

"We don't know yet," Sokka answered. "My sister's doing everything she can, but until we know what we're dealing with, that honestly isn't a whole lot."

"I see." Her shoulders slumped slightly at the words—a reaction that Suki wouldn't have expected from someone who was only concerned for the ruler of her country.

"Ming?" Suki came up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Do you… know Zuko?"

"Not… directly." Ming shook her head. "I have only met the Fire Lord face to face on a couple of occasions. But… I do know General Iroh."

Sokka and Suki exchanged a look.

"We can't afford to waste any time," Sokka said at last. "Let's go question the prisoner."

The cell that Ming led them to was set apart from the main block, and all of the other prisoners they passed along the way were held behind closed iron doors. They did not see Ozai, and Suki didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

_You're here for the assassin_, she reminded herself. _Just focus on questioning the assassin._

"She's in here," Ming said at last, unlocking the door. "Would you like me to come in with you?"

Suki shook her head. "It's probably better if you don't."

She halfway expected Ming to protest, but the guard only nodded as she pulled open the door.

As the light from the hallway spilled through the open door, it fell over a small figure sitting on the ground, back against the wall. "Oh good, Toph," Sokka said as he entered the cell. "You're already here."

"Um, yeah." Toph did not bother to get up as Ming closed the door behind them. "So what did you need me here _for_, anyway? The guards have already questioned her, and she wouldn't talk."

"We just want to give it a try ourselves before writing this off." As Suki spoke she approached the cell, holding aloft the glowstone Ming had given her on the way in. Its sickly green light fell over a young woman seated cross-legged with her back to the wall. Her plain black clothing was ripped and dirty, her loose black hair was a tangled mess, and her hands and wrists still bore stains of rusty reddish-brown. Yet in spite of all that, in spite of her position and the fact that she was facing banishment at best and execution at worst, her face was set in an expression of calm concentration, her eyes closed and her breathing easy. If Suki hadn't known better, she would have sworn the other woman was simply meditating.

She couldn't have been more than five years older than any of them.

For a few moments Suki simply stood outside of the cell with Sokka, sizing her up. The would-be assassin was the first to break the silence.

"Aren't you going to question me?" She was well-spoken, as befitted a noble, and had an Earth Kingdom accent. Suki frowned.

"Yeah." Sokka stepped forward, brandishing his club. "And you'd better answer us this time, or else—"

Suki held up a hand, eliciting a stunned exclamation from her boyfriend. "What? I'm not allowed to do a bit of threatening? Zuko's life is in danger here!"

A dull pounding behind her eyes told Suki that if this situation didn't change course, and soon, she was in for a headache the size of Ba Sing Se. The only thing that stopped her from rubbing her forehead was the knowledge that such an action would smear her carefully-applied makeup—again. Looking at Sokka intensely, she gave him the slightest shake of her head.

"Delicacy and precision, remember." Mentally, she prayed that he would take the hint.

Thankfully, they only had to lock eyes for a moment before Sokka surrendered, holding his hands up in a gesture of defeat. "Okay, fine. Just do what you think is best." He backed away from the cell, leaning up against the back wall with his arms crossed. "But if your way doesn't work, I still get to club her."

"Sure, fine. Whatever you want." Suki turned back to the cell, whose occupant had been watching them with an expression of mild curiosity, and knelt down in front of the bars.

For a few minutes, they only stared at each other. Suki waited patiently, allowing years of training and the enhancement provided by her makeup to do their work. As she'd been counting on, the prisoner was the first to break.

"So. Just why is it that a Kyoshi Warrior, a servant of the Avatar, is acting on behalf of the Fire Lord?"

"I'm not acting on any lord's behalf." Suki let the silence drag on a bit after that, allowing the statement to sink in. "What's your name?" she asked abruptly.

The woman looked startled by the sudden change in topic, but she answered readily enough. "Rong."

"Nice to meet you, Rong. I'm Suki." She allowed her body to relax slightly, shifting from the position of a warrior ready to pounce to something more suited to sharing a cup of tea with a friend. Rong raised an eyebrow, but did not otherwise comment.

"You know, Rong," Suki said at last, breaking the silence just as it was beginning to get uncomfortable, "I remember the first time I met Fire Lord Zuko. Well, he was only Prince Zuko at the time. I also suppose I didn't actually meet him, given that I was fighting his soldiers and he was burning down my village."

That got the first real reaction out of Rong they'd had since entering the cell: she turned her head in full, really meeting Suki's eyes. It wasn't much, but it told Suki that she was on the right track: before, she had merely been playing along with their game. Now she was actually interested.

"So how did that play out?"

Suki smiled. Dimly, she noticed Sokka beginning to sputter in the background, only to be hastily shushed by Toph, and made a mental note to do something nice for the blind earthbender just as soon as this was over.

"Well, no one was seriously hurt, and he was only after the Avatar so they didn't stay to pillage. The village itself was pretty badly damaged, but thankfully it was summer so we didn't have it too hard while we were rebuilding."

"I suppose that's good for your village."

"Yes, it could have been much worse." The pause this time was more comfortable, less heavy with unspoken meaning. "Are you a Fire Nation citizen?"

At the question, Rong stiffened once again. "What's it to you?"

"Well, I suppose that I was only curious. You're certainly dressed like someone from the Fire Nation, and I couldn't help but notice that you have yellow eyes." The group of them might have managed to pass for Fire Nation during the last few months of the war, and she knew that Zuko had done the same during his exile in the Earth Kingdom, but eye color was one thing that nobody could hide—not from someone who knew what to look for. "Yet you're darker-skinned than just about everyone I've met in the Fire Nation, and that dagger you used is of Earth Kingdom make—don't try to deny it," she added as Rong opened her mouth. "I'm a weapons expert; I know where that thing came from."

"You do seem quite knowledgeable," Rong conceded. "Especially for someone who comes from a backwater island."

Suki didn't rise to the bait. "I'm glad you think so," she said instead. "It's good to know that you've realized insulting my intelligence is a waste of time." The other woman only inclined her head in concession of the point.

"Which brings us back to my original question," Suki continued when she showed no incentive to continue the conversation. "Where _are_ you from? If you're from the Earth Kingdom, I don't see what motive you could possibly have for attacking the first Fire Lord in a hundred years who's agreed to put a peaceful stop to the war." At that, Rong's eyebrows drew downward, and Suki knew that she was close to the mark. "Unless maybe he burned down _your_ village too—"

"He might as well have!"

There it was: that nerve that she had hit. Suki did not press her point, but merely raised an eyebrow, well aware that the makeup enhanced the expression.

Rong was breathing heavily, her jaw working around clenched teeth. Her fingers were opening and closing spasmodically at her sides, as if itching to hold the dagger that had long since been taken away.

"My family was doing just _fine_," she spat, without prompting. "Right up until Fire Lord Zuko took the throne, that is." Suki maintained her silence, not willing to break this tentative thread of a lead now that she had gotten it; even Sokka, behind her, had stopped his nervous fidgeting and was standing at rapt attention. "'The people of the Fire Nation have to come home,' he said. 'You can't stay in the Earth Kingdom anymore,' he said. 'It'll be so much better this way,' he said. Well, everybody was forced to do as he said, whether they wanted to or not." She glared. "And now our family's been torn apart because my mother got dragged back to a 'home' she hasn't seen since she was a little girl, and my father is beside himself with grief!"

"You're… from the colonies."

Rong didn't qualify that with a response; indeed, Suki couldn't even be sure that she'd heard. Her eyes had acquired a faraway look, and Suki could tell that she was no longer in a filthy Fire Nation jail cell, but back in whatever Earth Kingdom colony she'd grown up in, reliving the events that had driven her to attempt murder.

"We were hardly the only ones, either." Her speech had taken on the tone of a mantra repeated over and over in one's head until it came bubbling to the surface in a fit of rage. "All over my home, families are being torn apart, children separated from their parents, people uprooting themselves from their lifelong homes. And for what? The pretty ideals of a group of _children_ who have no idea how things work in the real world, and couldn't be bothered to find out.

"Fire Lord Ozai protected us," she continued, more softly. "Whatever else he might have done, he did everything in his power to protect his people." She glared. "Which is more than I can say for your _friend_."

"I see." She did see—and unfortunately, this changed everything. If Rong had been a native of the Fire Nation, Suki would probably have been able to get the necessary information out of her with minimal difficulty; had she been purely Earth Kingdom, it would have been even easier. The situation at hand, however, had just revealed itself to be much more delicate and complex than she ever would have thought possible.

"Rong… can I ask you something?" The chance was a slim one, she knew, but it was at least worth a shot. The other woman didn't answer verbally, but the slight inclination of her head told Suki that she was at least still listening. "Did anyone ever try talking to _Zuko_ about this?"

For a moment, Rong stared at her as if she'd grown a second head. Then, she burst into raucous laughter that echoed off the walls and ceiling of the prison.

That was _not_ a good sign.

"Oh, you really are naïve," she said at last, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "_Talk_ to the Fire Lord? I might as well try reasoning with the wind, for all the good it'll do me."

At those words, Suki felt a chill going through her. Of course; she had forgotten. She had grown up in a small village on a remote island, where the village head was a member of the people, chosen for his merits, and was always out among them. And of course, Zuko was her friend, and held no real authority over her or anyone else in their group; if she had a problem with him, she could tell him to his face, and on more than one occasion she had even heard Toph tell him just where he could stick his crown. To one of his own people, however… Fire Lord Ozai, and likely his predecessors as well, had spent lifetimes building up a wall of power and intimidation that separated them from the common people. That wall wasn't going to come down overnight just because Ozai no longer sat on the throne.

It was time to change tack. "What are you expecting to happen if he dies?" she said quietly. "Who would take the throne in his place? Ozai has no power anymore. He's no longer capable of doing what you want." Rong's eyes narrowed, but she was still listening; that, at least, was something. "Were you hoping for his sister to become the next Fire Lord?" Suki paused for a moment, just long enough to suppress a shudder at the thought. "Azula is in no fit state to rule. Even if not for her madness, I've dealt with her personally—and I know that she's as sadistic and cruel as she is manipulative. Believe me, she wouldn't help you—at least, not unless she saw that as a means to help herself."

Rong glared. "A means to an end is better than no help at all."

"Do you really believe that?" Her quiet inquiry was met with silence. "Even so, I still say that Zuko is your best bet. I know him, and I've seen what he's like. Contrary to what you think, he does care about people. He probably just didn't realize all the implications of what he was doing." Rong let out a snort of disbelief, and Suki sighed. "Let me talk to him," she said. "Or if not him, the Avatar. I'm sure he'd be willing to reconsider the colonies, if you told—"

"It's too late for that." Rong shook her head. Seeing Suki's expression of confusion, she continued, "You came here to find out the poison I used on him, didn't you?" Suki nodded slowly, a pit of dread slowly uncoiling in her stomach. "Well, it's extract of ducao. It may kill slowly, but it is deadly nonetheless." Rong smirked, a disturbing gleam of triumph in her eyes. "And there is no antidote."

At those words, Suki felt her blood run cold. The plant Rong had mentioned was a fairly common one in the Earth Kingdom—common, and deadly. The climate of Kyoshi Island was too cold to support it, but Suki had done a fair share of traveling even before joining up with Aang's group, and she knew that, as careful as people were, at least once a year livestock or even an occasional child would fall victim to it, dying a slow death as the body shut down one vital organ at a time.

Simultaneously, she and Sokka whipped their heads around to look at Toph, who was sitting with both palms pressed against the floor, her unseeing eyes wide. "She's not lying," the earthbender said quietly.

Slowly, Suki pushed herself up from the floor, suddenly feeling much older and much more tired than was warranted by her mere sixteen years. "We'd better tell Katara."

* * *

Toph hated feeling helpless.

Ever since she'd been born, her parents—not to mention just about everyone else she'd come into contact with through them—had treated her as if she were made of glass. As if that wasn't bad enough, rather than teaching her to care for herself to the extent of those abilities she _did_ have (which were, in fact, more considerable than those of most sighted people she'd met), they'd done everything in their power to keep her that way. Even her earthbending teacher, who should have been the one to give her the key to her independence, had been under strict orders to keep her at the most basic level—as if they honestly thought that she'd hurt herself in her own element!

That was what she had loved so much about the Earth Rumbles, and about Aang's little group as well. There, people had respected her as the formidable earthbender she was, sight or no sight—Katara had even yelled at her for not doing a fair share of the work (well, by the Water Tribe girl's definition of "fair," at least).

Nevertheless, there had been times, even with them, when she had felt helpless, when she'd been keenly aware of her blindness as a liability—she could count them on one hand, but they were still there. Every time she'd had to ride bareback on Appa. Crossing the water on a bridge of ice, with nothing to guide her but Sokka's voice. Being trapped in a wooden jail cell, entirely dependent on Katara to get them out. That time Zuko had burned her feet. Dangling from Sokka's hand off the side of a crashing airship.

Then, of course, there was this time.

Catching the assassin had been one thing—the woman hadn't managed to get far before Toph had caught up with her, trapping her where she stood as only an earthbender can. Then, she'd been caught up in the thrill of the chase, and even so she hadn't been overly worried about Zuko—Sugar Queen was there, after all, and she could fix pretty much anything.

She'd gotten the first inkling that something was wrong when, hard on the heels of the report that Sugar Queen had fixed up Sparky just like Toph had known she would, she had received an urgent message from Sokka that he and Suki were on their way to question the prisoner further and that they needed her to stay where she was so that she could monitor the proceedings. When they'd arrived in the prison about half an hour later and she'd felt how agitated Sokka was, alongside Suki's air of steely determination interrupted by the occasional jolt of her nervous heartbeat, Toph's feeling of foreboding had only grown. _Then_, Rong had told the truth about the deadly poison she'd used, and everything had gone straight to Koh's lair in a handbasket.

Toph had been the one to bring them back to the palace, carrying them along on a wave of earth that produced more than a few indignant yelps as startled Fire Nation citizens jumped frantically out of their way. Now, however, her usefulness had expired, and she'd resorted to sitting slumped on the floor of Sparky's room, listening with one ear as Sokka and Suki repeated in hushed tones to Katara what Rong had told them. She couldn't feel Twinkletoes anywhere, but that didn't have to mean anything—Aang always had been light on his feet. No, for the moment nearly all of her concentration was on Zuko—hands pressed to the floor, she focused on his vital signs. Whether his heart was racing from fear, or because the poison was beginning to set in, she honestly couldn't say.

The vibrations of approaching footsteps from the other end of the hallway alerted her to another person's approach. Having nothing better to do and not wanting to distract Katara from her healing or Sokka and Suki from sharing their information, she pushed herself to her feet and made her way to the door, quickening her pace just as soon as she realized who those footsteps belonged to.

"You're Knife-Girl," she said just as soon as the door had clicked shut behind her. She'd only met the Fire Nation girl on a handful of occasions—and given that she'd been attacking them every single one of those times, Toph was still inclined to be wary in her presence.

"Can I talk to you?" Her voice became slightly muffled as she turned her head toward the door. "It might be important for Zuko."

"Didn't Sparky say you broke up with him a couple of months ago?"

"That doesn't mean I want him dead." The other girl let out a sigh. "Look, would you just come with me?"

"Fine." _Fat lot of good I'm doing here anyway._

Mai led her to a room at the other end of the hall—out of hearing range of the others unless someone shouted, Toph noted. The earthbender waited in the middle of the room, arms crossed, for the other girl to say whatever it was she had come to say.

Not until Mai had closed the door and clicked the bolt into place did she turn her attention to Toph once more. "How much do you know about the New Ozai Society?"

"The what of what now?"

"Nothing, then." She sighed again. "That's what I was afraid of." A moment of silence passed before she seemed to come to a decision.

"How I found out about them isn't important. But they're a group of Ozai loyalists whose goal is to overthrow Zuko and—"

"Restore Loser Lord Ozai to the throne?" At her brief pause of surprise, Toph smirked. "Well duh." Then, however, she frowned. "So how come you didn't tell Zuko about these guys?"

"I did." Mai's clothes rustled softly as she sank into a nearby chair, but Toph caught her almost imperceptible trembling in spite of her poise. "I sent him a message as soon as I was able. But I don't suppose I should be surprised that he didn't tell you."

No, Toph thought, it wasn't surprising. It was just like Sparky to try to do everything on his own, to think that his personal safety wasn't worth mentioning—and just look where it had got him! As soon as this was over, Toph would be having a word with him about keeping his friends in the loop—and by "having a word," of course, she meant something that would involve a few very large rocks to the noggin.

Speaking of Sparky…

"Look, thanks for the information and all, but I think that we've got this one covered." Toph, more anxious than she was willing to admit as to how her friend was doing, began making her way toward the door. "We've already questioned the assassin, and found out she was a colonist with a grudge. She doesn't have anything to do with this 'New Ozai Society.'"

Toph's hand was on the doorknob when Mai's voice interrupted her again. "That's where I believe you're mistaken."

She paused. Mai might not have been one to wear her emotions on her sleeve, but she wasn't lying, and Toph was reasonably sure she wasn't crazy. Abandoning the door, Toph turned back to the center of the room, arms across her chest. "Okay, spill."

At this, Mai stood as well. "I haven't told this part to anyone, but the leader of the New Ozai Society is my father. Who, if you'll remember, was the governor of New Ozai—or Omashu, I suppose I should call it now." She began to walk, and Toph stood aside to give her access to the door. "If he's recruiting, the Earth Kingdom colonies are the first place he'd go."

Toph followed Mai out into the hallway. It was yet another piece of bad news she'd have to share, but she couldn't afford to keep it to herself. She hoped that at least the others were all in one place, because she didn't want to have to say this more than once. "So how do you know about it?" she asked.

Mai sighed again—was she ever _not_ sighing? "My father sent some guy to lure me into their lair, where he tried to convince me to help them. Something about doing my duties to the Fire Nation, he said." Right outside the door, she paused. "They tried to brainwash my little brother."

Mai was not easy to read—as a matter of fact, the only person who had ever given Toph more trouble was Azula. Nevertheless, the raw anger in her voice came through clearly, and Toph suspected that even someone not gifted with the second sight of earthbending would have been able to pick it up.

She let out a low (and deliberately unladylike) whistle. "And I thought _my_ parents were bad."

"You don't know the half of it." Though Toph couldn't actually see it, Mai's small, humorless smile was there in her voice. Then, however, she stepped back from the door.

"Wait a minute, aren't you coming in?"

"I'll come in if he asks for me, but I think that seeing me right now would only upset Zuko further—and being upset is the last thing he needs." Toph certainly couldn't argue with that logic. "I'll be around if there's anything else you need to know." She bent her body in a formal bow, and Toph inclined her head in turn. Then, she was gone, moving back down the hallway in even, measured steps.

Taking a deep breath, Toph reached for the doorknob, steeling herself to break her share of the bad news.

* * *

**A/N:** That interrogation scene took me _forever_ to write. Not only that, but it made me realize just how much I hate writing questioning sessions, especially given that I didn't want to make the heroes resort to torture or intimidation to get important information out of someone who didn't want to talk. Note to self: I need to do something nice for Suki. I don't think I'd have gotten through this chapter if not for her.

This is where we're starting to see ideas from the comics. I did consider using Kori as the assassin; the primary reason I didn't was that there was absolutely no way I could justify keeping an earthbender in a prison with stone floor. (*cough* *cough* Shyamalan *cough* *cough*) Thus Rong was born: different character, same motives. As as matter of fact, Zuko _did_ say in _The Promise_ that he'd survived five different assassination attempts before Kori got to him, and this could easily have been one of them. Still doesn't make this story comics-compliant, but it's nonetheless an AU that hews pretty closely to many of the same events.

I kept Mai and Zuko's breakup for a couple of reasons, one of them being the New Ozai Society, which I thought was a really cool idea that didn't get nearly as much development as it deserved. The other reason was simply that I really didn't know what to do with Mai. Yeah, I think she'd be involved somehow, but Maiko is _not_ a romance I'd particularly enjoy writing, and I think that for this story in particular, I'd much rather write Mai going on crime-solving adventures than brooding at Zuko's bedside.

The poison in question is very very loosely based on hemlock, though I've definitely made up a few things as well. Given that pretty much every non-human species in this series is some sort of weird chimera hybrid, I think that I can get away with it.

Also, there was hardly any Zuko at all in this chapter. Madness! ('Twill be fixed next chapter, I promise!)


	3. Free Fall

"This is where their last hideout was."

Nobody answered; there was really no need. Everyone present could see the carnage just as well as she could.

Katara had encouraged them to go. While all of them had been reluctant to leave Zuko while his life hung in an unknown balance, the plain fact of the matter was that the lot of them were fighters, not healers. At best, their presence would be useless. At worst, they would be in the way. No, for the moment the only way they had to help Zuko was by gathering information, and since it was evident that they were getting no more out of Rong, Mai's intelligence was the best lead they had.

So it was that they had come to this dank, disgusting stairwell in the middle of a broken-down part of town. Mai couldn't remember the last time she had willingly set foot somewhere that she found so repulsive.

The four of them fanned out as they entered to get the best look at the small space that they could, moving quietly even though there was no longer anyone there to hear them. Sokka's curious expression quickly turned to a hiss of anger as he turned the fallen effigy over with his foot.

"What?" Toph asked. "It's just a bunch of straw with a knife in it."

"Yeah… a bunch of straw with a bad drawing of Zuko's face on it."

"…oh." The earthbender's voice was instantly diminished. "Doesn't look anything like him to me."

Suki, meanwhile, was moving around the edges of the room. "Your work, I take it?" she asked, running a gloved hand over the ripped and fallen tapestry of Ozai.

Mai nodded. "I needed to take out as many of them as I could so I could escape with my brother. The tapestry was a good way to do that."

"Well, you definitely had the right idea." The other girl nodded in approval. "It looks like this is a dead end, though." As she spoke, she raised her voice, and Sokka and Toph came over to join them. "The New Ozai Society is long gone, and it doesn't look like they left behind anything that's going to help us."

"Well, it was worth a try." Mai sighed as she led them back up to the surface with no small amount of relief—but also with a growing sense of dread. "But I suppose we're going to have to track down my parents after all."

Sokka and Suki glanced at each other before shooting her covert looks of sympathy, which Mai pretended not to see. They were the lucky ones, she knew: when he had told her the full story of the Boiling Rock, Zuko had described Sokka's reunion with his father with no small amount of envy, and during the celebration in the Jasmine Dragon, she had listened to Suki, with a fond light in her eyes, describe the first time her mother had taught her how to wield Kyoshi's fans. The only one who did not show any outward reaction was Toph. Given the hints she had dropped about her parents when they had spoken earlier, Mai honestly couldn't say that she was surprised.

Well, dread or not, she supposed there was nothing for it now. This wouldn't be pleasant for anyone involved, but it was her father's dignity against Zuko's life, and the man had already demonstrated that he had no real honor to begin with. Mai only wished that she didn't have to be so closely involved…

Her train of thought was interrupted when Toph stopped in her tracks, holding up a hand. "Someone's coming," she whispered. "Sounds like he's trying to be sneaky too."

Interest piqued, Mai joined the others as they ducked into the shadows of the nearest available broken-down building. As they waited, the figure of another person crept furtively into the area, eyes darting from side to side as if he were afraid of getting caught.

At the sight of his face, Mai could not help but let out a smirk, an expression that caused Sokka to take a nervous step back. Maybe they wouldn't have to go to her parents after all.

Quick as lightning, she darted out into the open, and before anyone else could even blink, her knives had flown. The person they'd spotted managed little more than to turn his head with a look of surprise before he was trapped, his clothing firmly pinned to the wall of the building behind him. For a few seconds, he struggled, twisting his body this way and that, but many of the knives were embedded up to the hilt, and he could not pull free.

Slowly, Mai moved toward him, making sure each step was measured and deliberate. "Hello again, Kei Lo."

At the sound of her voice he stopped struggling, though his gaze on her was as incredulous as it was sad. "Hi… Mai."

The others had emerged behind her, and were now standing arrayed at her back. "Mai, who is this guy?" Suki asked, coming to stand by her side.

"My father sent him to lure me to their meeting place under the guise of asking me out on a date." She turned back to the captive Kei Lo. "What, nothing to say for yourself?" she asked. "Someone just tried to murder Zuko, only a few weeks after your attempt to overthrow the Fire Lord failed." Though she omitted the fact that she had been personally responsible for thwarting that plan, the truth of it still hung in the air between them. "Somehow I have a hard time believing that the New Ozai Society wasn't involved in this too."

He shook his head. "I don't know… what you're talking about."

Behind her, Toph let out a huff. "You know, if you're going to lie you should at least put some effort into it." Her voice dripped disgust.

"So the New Ozai Society did have something to do with the assassin who showed up last night." She made the statement without inflection or emotion, stating it for the bald, simple fact that it was. Kei Lo did not try to deny her words. "Even if she isn't one of you, it's clear that you were giving her some form of help—weapons, information, a way into the palace… Tell me, Kei Lo, did you supply her with the poison she used in that dagger?"

In answer, he simply shook his head. It didn't look as if the gesture was intended as a denial, however. Mai simply crossed her arms and waited. Following her lead, the others stayed silent as well.

Finally, he raised his head with a defeated look on his face, his eyes still fixed on her. "Mai… why?" He clenched his hands as if he wanted to make some sort of gesture even though his arms were still pinned to the wall. "Zuko's sacrificing the glory of the Fire Nation, cost your father his position—"

"He put an end to the war that's been causing unimaginable pain and suffering in all of _our_ nations," Suki interrupted. "Bringing his people home from places they didn't belong, where they'd usurped others' homes and sent them into exodus in their own lands_—that's_ the great injustice you're complaining about?" Her voice was incredulous.

Kei Lo ignored her. "The guy _dumped_ you, Mai. Why are you going to such lengths to protect him?"

"Just how petty do you think I am?" She stood in front of him, arms crossed, careful not to give away even the slightest hint of expression. This tactic had worked on Zuko; she was reasonably sure it would work on Kei Lo as well. "Do you think that just because Zuko and I are no longer dating, I'd be willing to stand by and watch him be killed?" She shook her head. "You're pathetic, you know that? Though I suppose I should be glad we only went on one date if you think that's normal behavior." She backed off a few steps, still fixing him with a gaze that would have given Koh the Face Stealer pause.

"So," Suki continued, picking up from where she had left off, "from what I understand, you're in pretty deep trouble either way. If you cooperate now, however, you might get off a bit more lightly."

"We need to know everything about the New Ozai Society," Sokka jumped in seamlessly. "What they're up to, who the members are, and whether they've planned any other little assassination attempts."

"When we questioned Rong, she told us that extract of ducao had no cure." Everyone turned to look at Toph, confused by this new line of questioning. "_She_ believed what she was saying." Mai saw no reaction from Kei Lo, whom she was watching from the corner of her eye, but the grin on Toph's face was reminiscent of a tigerdillo about to devour its prey, and when the blind earthbender next spoke, she could have sworn that her heart skipped a beat.

"I think that you can tell us something different."

* * *

The temperature of the room was nearly stifling, yet at the same time he couldn't seem to get warm enough.

Zuko shivered as he wrapped the thick blanket closer around him, even as sweat beaded on his forehead and the very air in the room seemed to sear his face. He snuggled deeper into the embrace of the plush chair—after the third healing session, the bandages had come off for good and Katara had finally let him get up and move around, provided he kept warm and didn't overexert himself.

Well, he thought as his body gave another involuntary shiver, overexertion was one thing that was not going to be a problem. Even with Katara to lean on, just the short walk from the bed to the chair had left him utterly spent and gasping for breath—he hadn't even been able to muster up the strength to argue when she'd told him that that was enough for the time being.

Now, Katara was taking a break. Sokka, after he'd come back alone from his scouting run with the others, had finally talked her into accompanying him to the kitchens for a meal, and though she'd left reluctantly, Zuko hadn't missed the look of relief on her face when she'd stepped from the stifling sickroom into the relatively cooler air of the hallway outside. She had been drenched with sweat, her hair plastered to her forehead and her clothing clinging to her body in awkward ways, but she had taken one look at the way he shivered and thrown another log on the fire without a thought for her own comfort.

What had he ever done to deserve a friend like Katara?

Come to think of it, he still wasn't sure just how he had managed to gain such a group of friends who were willing to drop everything and run themselves ragged just to help _him_. When Sokka had returned, he had told them that they might have found a way to help him and that Suki, Toph, and Mai were combining all of their considerable talents to hunt down the antidote. His heart clenched at the thought that even Mai, the girl he had ruined his chances with _twice_, would expend such an effort simply because she didn't want him to die.

He needed to see Mai again, he thought, if nothing else to apologize for the way he'd treated her and kept her in the dark, and to thank her for the effort she'd gone to on his behalf, and he needed to do it as soon as she got back—just in case the worst happened. Another shuddering breath went through his body as he thought, for what must have been the dozenth time that day, that he hadn't had nearly enough time to make all the apologies that needed to be made—to his enemies-turned-friends, to the other nations, to his former crew, to the individuals he'd wronged along the way… a girl who'd helped his uncle, and whom he'd repaid by stealing her ostrich-horse… a boy in a war-torn Earth Kingdom town, who'd already been robbed of his brother by the Fire Nation's war…

Zuko must have dozed without realizing it, for the next thing he knew was the sensation of gentle hand pressed against his forehead. Prying his eyes open, not even aware that he'd closed them in the first place, he was met with the gaze of another pair of yellow eyes, ever so slightly darker than his own, set in a face that was pinched and lined with worry.

"Nephew…"

The old man's voice broke on the single word, and Zuko felt his heart lurch within his chest. Suddenly, this was so much harder than it had been when the thought that he might very well die in a few days had been hovering over his head. Now, when he had to meet his uncle's eyes and see the haunted look that they held, that broken expression that Zuko hadn't seen him wear since his return from Ba Sing Se, disgraced by his failure and without Lu Ten at his side, the physical pain suddenly diminished in comparison. "Uncle, I—"

Before he could speak any further, however, his uncle's arms were around him, and he was pulled from his place in the chair and gently cradled against the older man's chest.

Uncle was so, so careful. When he'd left his bed earlier, even with Katara's help every movement, no matter how slight, had sent pain jolting up and down his body, leaving him sweating and unable to hide his trembling or the clenching of his jaw. His uncle's embrace, however, barely hurt at all, and for some reason the thought of just how much care the other man was taking not to cause him pain made his throat constrict and a burning sensation well in his eyes, and when the first sob tore from his throat, he was too weak to hold it in.

"Shh." A gentle hand rubbed soothing circles over his back. "It is okay to cry." The arms wrapped tighter around him, holding him close. "It is okay to be afraid. This is not a weakness, my nephew."

Words he'd needed to hear so badly, and for so long, yet had never heeded or believed—at least, not from the person who'd been saying them. No, the only person whose approval he'd craved had always been the last one he should have listened to, no matter how many times or how many different ways his _real_ father had tried to tell him otherwise.

_"My father cares about me."_

_ "__I__ care about you!"_

"M'sorry," he mumbled, the words barely intelligible through the cloth of his uncle's shirt and his own bitter shame.

"Hm?" His uncle gently set him back into the chair, and Zuko thought that his eyes looked suspiciously red-rimmed as well. "For what, nephew?"

"Should've listened… I never listened…"

"No you did not." Even as the flush spread over his face, however, Uncle's gentle hand beneath his chin stopped him from turning away in shame, forcing him to maintain eye contact and see the other man's reassuring smile. "But you already made your apologies a long time ago."

Zuko wanted to protest—his uncle didn't understand; he hadn't even had a chance to explain just what he was apologizing for—but before he could find the words, the man was brushing back his hair again to press a hand to his forehead, and his expression had changed into a frown of concern. "I think that right now, what you need is rest."

"Been resting all day…"

"In which case, a little more is hardly likely to hurt." A hand between his shoulder blades gently propped him up. "Are you able to walk?"

Zuko let out a slight groan. He wanted to say yes—all day he'd been unable to care for himself or to do any of his duties, and he desperately wanted to have even just this _one thing_—but the way his head spun at even the slight shift in position quickly belied that idea. "I'm not sure."

"Well then, I will help you." With a hand still on his back, his uncle gently pulled him the rest of the way out of the chair. Immediately the room spun around him and a wave of nausea rolled through him; his body pitched toward the floor, and his first thought was that he would fall, but his uncle's firm grip kept him upright, holding him still until the worst of it had passed.

It had gotten worse. When Katara had helped him across the room, every movement had sent pins and needles up and down his limbs, but aside from some momentary dizziness he had still been able to keep his balance. Now, it felt as if the world was tilting around him, and as he shuffled across the floor, Zuko noticed something else that was even more worrisome.

"Uncle… I can't feel my feet…"

The older man's eyes widened as he looked at Zuko in alarm. "How long has this been going on?" he demanded, and Zuko was sure he hadn't imagined the note of panic in his voice.

"Just noticed it now," he answered honestly. When they reached the bed, he very nearly collapsed onto it, gratefully leaving it to his uncle to finish the job by lifting his legs up after him. "Hands are cold," he confessed as an afterthought as his uncle pulled the covers over him.

In answer, Uncle took one of Zuko's hands between his own, rubbing gently back and forth, his fingers suffused with a mild heat that was due to more than mere friction. "Does that feel any better?"

Zuko tried to nod, but the motion induced another wave of dizziness that made him feel as if he were falling, even though he was already lying down. Quickly giving up the attempt, he settled for grunting affirmation. "Mm-hm."

"I only wish that I could help you more." His uncle set the hand back down, and moved on to give the other the same treatment before pulling the blankets over him once more and pushing himself to his feet, with more weariness than Zuko had ever seen in him before. "I will send in Katara. At the moment you are in need of her help more than mine, and I think that I should hear whatever information your friends have found." He brushed a hand once more over Zuko's forehead. "But nephew? If you would like me to come back in, at any time, for any reason, do not hesitate to ask."

"I will, Uncle." And for once in his life, he meant it. It was the last thing he was aware of saying before darkness claimed him once more.

* * *

When Iroh made his way back out into the hallway, it was to find the Water Tribe siblings talking to the Avatar in hushed tones. They appeared to be filling him in on what had happened while he'd been away.

Away fetching Iroh, because there was a good chance he was about to lose his second son as well…

He cleared his throat, and the conversation immediately stopped as all three of them turned to him. They were looking at Iroh almost expectantly, as if waiting for him to tell them what to do, and suddenly, with a pang, he saw them not for the incredibly powerful warriors and heroes they'd become, but for the frightened and lost children they still were.

"Katara," he said. "Would you be so kind as to take another look at my nephew? I cannot tell for sure, having just arrived, but he seems to have gotten worse."

"Of course." She pulled away from the group. "Were there any particular symptoms you noticed?"

"He seemed to be very cold, in spite of the temperature, and had difficulty keeping his balance. He also complained of numbness in his extremities."

"Numbness? That's new." From the way Katara's eyes widened in alarm, it was also not a good sign. "Everybody else, wait out here. Sokka and Aang can tell you what we've found since yesterday." With that, she pushed past them into the room.

Iroh raised an eyebrow. "I hope that what you have found is good news."

"Well, we found out the poison was," Sokka said without preamble. "The good news is that there is an antidote—but it's kind of hard to find, and it's most effective if given sooner rather than later. Suki, Toph and Mai are on that now."

"There's more, too." Aang's arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked exceedingly troubled. "The assassin was a colonist from a mixed family, but apparently there's this whole secret society that has it in for Zuko."

They then proceeded to fill him on everything they had learned about the New Ozai Society. Sokka did most of the talking; it was evident that Aang was hearing most of this for the first time as well, and his expression grew steadily grimmer the further into the story Sokka got.

"That is indeed troubling." Iroh stroked his beard. "And you say that my nephew knew about this group?"

Sokka nodded. "According to Mai, he should have. Apparently he just didn't think the rest of us needed to know." The hurt and betrayal on the Water Tribesman's face was plain to see.

Iroh let out a sigh. "My nephew always did have a penchant for thinking he had to do everything on his own." It was a hard lesson, learned over and over again at the hands of those who should have been reaching out to help him. Iroh could only hope that failing to unlearn it would not cost his nephew his life.

Aang opened his mouth, but before he could reply, the door opened again. When Katara stepped out into the hallway Iroh noted with alarm that her eyes were downcast, her arms wrapped protectively around her body as if to give herself comfort. "He… he's getting worse."

Immediately Iroh was in the doorway, gripping the waterbending healer gently by the shoulders. "How bad?" he pleaded softly. "How bad is it?"

Instead of answering, Katara shook her head. Though he noticed Sokka and Aang coming to stand behind him and sensed their looks of concern, Iroh kept his eyes on the waterbender, seeing his own devastation mirrored in her face. "Please, Katara," he said gently. "I need to know."

She met his gaze, then, her own blue eyes overbright with unshed tears. "My healing is losing effectiveness," she said at last. "He'll feel better for maybe half an hour, but then all the symptoms just come right back again, and they're worse every time. He's fighting, and I'm not going to give up on him as long as he's still breathing, but if we don't get him that medicine soon, I—I don't know if he's going to see another sunrise. That's why I came out." Her voice broke at the admission, a single tear falling to slide down her cheek. "He was asking for you." The last sentence was uttered in a mere whisper.

For an instant in time, Iroh was frozen. Then, without a word, he pushed into the room, Katara standing aside to let him through. When Aang and Sokka stepped forward to follow, however, Katara threw out an arm to stop them.

"Sokka, you know where Suki, Toph and Mai went, right?" Though Iroh did not hear an answer and did not bother to turn around and check, he assumed that Sokka was nodding. "I need you to guide Aang so that he can get that medicine here faster. Aang can travel faster than anyone here, and we need every second we can get."

The rest, however, was lost to him. Immediately he was at Zuko's bedside, once again taking his nephew's hand between his own, channeling his inner fire to warm it; Zuko's fingers were alarmingly ice-cold. "Zuko?" he whispered. "Zuko, I'm here."

Slowly, Zuko's eyes pulled open, though they remained mere slits. "Uncle?" His voice was barely more than a whisper. "Wanted to see you again…"

"Listen to me, Zuko. No, listen," as his nephew's eyes started to drift closed once more. With visible effort, he pried them back open. "You must try to hold on. We are doing everything we can to help you, but we need just a little more time. You _must_ fight."

"…am trying." Dimly, he noticed that Katara had returned and was at Zuko's other side, hands coated with healing water. "Just… so tired…"

"You can rest after this is over," he promised. "You have my word. But for now, you must fight." _Agni, I cannot lose another son…_

"Whatever it is you're doing, keep doing it," Katara said softly. "If you keep the blood flowing through his extremities, it's much less likely that there'll be permanent damage." Good advice: sound, practical, as he would expect from a healer. When she turned to meet his eyes, however, Iroh also saw what she really meant: _Don't let him give up. He needs all the encouragement he can get._ In turn, Iroh gave her a slow, deliberate nod, and he knew that she knew that he had understood.

While Iroh continued to murmur soft encouragement, Katara began what looked to be an established routine. She started by pressing water-coated hands to Zuko's temples, a soft blue glow emanating from her fingers as she worked her healing powers. After a few moments of that she lifted her hands and placed them instead against his chest; as she lingered over his heart and the scar he had earned shielding her from Azula's lightning, her eyebrows drew downward and her mouth set in a grim line, and Iroh could very well guess what she was thinking: _I'll pay you back in kind if it's the last thing I do._

From there, she continued to move down his torso, lingering over some places longer than others, sometimes even forsaking the water to press her fingers gently against his abdomen, seeking out any swelling or unusual tenderness. Once, Zuko let out a pained groan at her touch, and Katara was immediately bringing healing water to bear on that spot, and did not move from it for several minutes. She spent almost as much time on his wound; in spite of the fact that all that remained was now a thin red line, the skin around it was still swollen and fever-hot to the touch.

As soon as she had finished with that, Katara asked Iroh to help Zuko sit up and lean forward, so that she could access his back. He did so as gently as he could, moving slowly, stopping whenever the motion seemed to be causing his nephew undue pain or dizziness, and waiting for a moment until Zuko's teeth unclenched and his breathing evened out. Katara did not try to push them, but waited patiently for him to complete the shift.

It must have taken at least five minutes, but they eventually got Zuko into a sitting position. Iroh held him steady, letting his nephew lean against his shoulder while Katara pressed an ear to his back to listen to his breathing, then went to work with the water, starting at a spot between his shoulder blades and once again moving slowly downward. When she had finished, his nephew was breathing more easily—but even the slight motion of lowering him back to the bed produced a wave of dizziness that caused him to let out a groan, and Katara had to hold water-coated hands to his head once again until the room stopped spinning around him.

"Is there really nothing more you can do to help?" Iroh was pleading, his voice a mere whisper.

"I'm already doing everything I can." Katara's voice was equally quiet; it seemed as if they were all whispering now. "Zuko, where does it hurt?"

"Nowhere," he groaned. "Everywhere." His voice was hoarse. Katara bent a small amount of water into his mouth, gently encouraging him to swallow. Once he had done so she gave him a little more, one sip at a time, and kept at it until Zuko refused, saying he felt sick. He hadn't even drunk half a cup's worth.

Then, they began the whole thing all over again.

Iroh had been right about the process being an established routine: Katara went through the same motions, in the same order, each time encouraging Zuko to drink a bit of water when she had finished. As the cycle continued, however, Iroh couldn't help but notice that each time, the healing took a little bit longer, and seemed to bring Zuko less relief than before, and he could manage less water before he became too sick to drink.

Eventually they reached a point where Zuko could not drink anything at all.

Katara tried for nearly five minutes, offering him progressively smaller amounts until she was down to mere drops. But Zuko turned his head away, lips pressed firmly together, and eventually she was forced to give up, deciding that it wasn't worth the risk of him emptying his stomach of what little he'd managed to swallow already.

By this point, Iroh had lost count of how many times Katara had gone through her ritual with the water, of how many times he'd gently warmed Zuko's hands or feet in an effort to keep the blood flowing. What he did notice was that Katara was now drenched in sweat, her eyelids drooping as she held back yawn after yawn; his own hands were beginning to shake with fatigue from channeling his inner fire over such a long period of time. All the same, they both kept determinedly at what they were doing, neither one of them even suggesting a break. So, when the door burst open with a gust of wind, it was almost like being jolted out of a trance.

"I've—got it!" Aang's face was flushed, and he spoke in between gasps for breath as he leaned on his staff, but he was holding out a small packet in his free hand. As he raised his head, his expression was triumphant, but his gray eyes were also filled with worry: a very visible fear that he had arrived too late.

The reaction was instantaneous: immediately Katara was at his side, accepting the packet from him as he gasped out instructions. She hastily emptied the contents into a cup and mixed them with water, which Iroh heated with shaking hands before slowly cooling it back down again. As soon as the medicine was ready, Iroh lifted Zuko's head from the pillow and held the cup to his lips.

Zuko, however, tried to turn his head away when Iroh tilted the cup. "Ngh… feel too sick…"

"_Please_, nephew." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aang, who had finally managed to catch his breath, come to stand at the foot of the bed, looking worried, but kept his attention on Zuko. "You need to take the medicine or you might not get better at all." He had to fight not to let his voice break at the mere mention of the possibility.

"I feel like I'll just throw it up again," Zuko confessed in a whisper. He was giving Iroh a pleading look, the same expression Lu Ten had worn when he'd been very small, whenever he'd been sick or hurt and was begging his father to make things better.

"Try," Katara urged. "You _really_ won't like what I'll have to do if you can't manage to swallow it."

Zuko's face said that he was having a hard time imagining anything worse than whatever misery his stomach was putting him through at that very moment. Nevertheless, he allowed Iroh to tip a small amount of the liquid past his lips, holding it in his mouth for a long moment before he worked up the will to swallow.

"That's very good," Iroh said encouragingly, after a few minutes in which Zuko breathed in short, shallow gasps through clenched teeth, but managed not to vomit. "Now, you need to drink a little more…"

Iroh gave him the medicine one sip at a time, always waiting a few minutes in between so as to avoid making him sick if at all possible. In spite of his best efforts, several times throughout the process Zuko started retching, his eyes glazed over with misery. When this happened Iroh gently rubbed his back with one hand and held his head with the other, keeping Zuko's face turned to the side so he did not choke on his own vomit, while Katara held healing hands to his stomach, encouraging his body to accept the medicine he so desperately needed. After each episode had passed Iroh would allow a longer interval before giving him the next drink, setting the cup aside in favor of once again warming his nephew's hands in between his own. Only after he had finished did he pick up the cup again and make Zuko take another sip. Either thanks to their care or some miracle, he managed to keep it all down.

It must have been at least half an hour—maybe even closer to three-quarters—before the cup was fully emptied. "There. That is the last of it," he said as he tipped the remaining few drops of medicine into his nephew's mouth. Zuko let out a sigh of gratitude as Iroh lowered his head back to the pillow, while Aang and Katara exchanged relieved glances. He had just finished setting the now-empty cup on the bedside table when the door opened once again.

Sokka, Suki and Toph burst into the room, apparently having followed Aang as quickly as they were able. "H-h…" Sokka, however, was breathing so hard he could barely speak, and was forced to give up, chest heaving, hands on his knees, before he even got out the first syllable.

"How is he?" Suki finished for him. Even _she_ was breathing harder than normal, her makeup running with sweat.

"We got the medicine into him." Everyone who'd just entered breathed a collective sigh of relief. Katara, however, wasn't finished; biting her lip, she shot a glance at Zuko, who was lying still with his eyes closed and taking slow, shuddering breaths. Abruptly, she seemed to come to a decision. "Sokka, you'll catch your breath faster if you stand up straight." Aang and Iroh took the hint and followed her as she strode over to her brother.

"He's not out of the woods yet," she confessed in an undertone once they were all gathered at the far end of the room. "We got him the medicine much, much later than we should have, and he's already suffered a lot of damage."

"Is there anything else we can do to help?" Suki asked, even as she hauled Sokka to an upright position.

Katara shot her a grateful smile, albeit a rather forced one. "At the moment, I don't think so. But if I do need something, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Actually, might I suggest that you get some rest?" It hurt Iroh to say it, to bring up the possibility of depriving his nephew of the best healer in the nation right when he needed her the most—but Katara was swaying on her feet, and he did not have to ask to know that she had not slept at all since the whole incident had started.

"Iroh, how could you say—"

"He's right, Katara," Sokka interrupted, laying a hand on her shoulder. "You're exhausted. It won't do Zuko any good if you keep pushing yourself like this."

"If you've gone too long without sleep, you're much more likely to make mistakes," Suki reasoned, "and in a situation like this, a mistake could mean the difference between life and death." Katara hesitated, but Iroh could see her resolve beginning to crumble.

"I do not make this suggestion lightly," he added gently, "but it is better for you to sleep now, while you can, than to risk a collapse right when you are needed most."

That, it seemed, decided her. Slowly exhaling, Katara nodded, and everyone else breathed a sigh of relief.

"All right. I'll take a break—but I have some conditions. First of all, I sleep here."

"Of course." Iroh nodded. "I will have the servants make up a pallet for you—and for anyone else who wishes to stay, as well."

"Thank you, Iroh." She smiled at him before turning back to the others. "It also looks like I'm going to need some help after all." Everyone present stood up a bit straighter. "Toph. I need you to monitor Zuko's heartbeat and breathing while I'm asleep. Wake me _immediately_ if you notice any irregularities."

"Will do, Sugar Queen. You can count on me."

Apparently satisfied with that, Katara suppressed one final yawn as she made her way to an unused corner of the room.

* * *

Sparky's heartbeat was weak, but it was steady. His breathing was shallow, but also held.

Nobody else was moving or talking. Katara needed peace and quiet to get the sleep she so desperately needed (and her need _was_ desperate—she might have hidden it from the others, but Toph could tell she was falling asleep on her feet). It wasn't just for Sugar Queen's sake, either—Toph had promised to look after Zuko to the best of her abilities, and she intended to do it, and had warned the others in no uncertain terms that any unnecessary talking or moving around would be met with a swift rock to the head.

That wasn't to say there was no activity at all. Earlier on Iroh had started whispering gently to his nephew, talking about everything and nothing—stories from his childhood and Zuko's, reminiscences of someone named Lu Ten (Toph didn't know who he was, but she had felt Iroh's breath hitch when he spoke the name), wartime adventures, legends of the first benders. Nor had she told him to stop, in spite of her earlier warnings: not only did she know what he was doing, but she had _felt_ the way that Sparky had responded, and she knew that this was keeping Zuko anchored, the impact of his uncle's gentle words just as great as Katara's healing powers in holding him to this world.

Eventually, however, Sparky's exhaustion had overwhelmed him, and he had fallen asleep—a mercy, she thought, considering how much pain he was in. Iroh had followed soon after, his loud snores filling the room; he had been awake for nearly as long as Katara, and such long-sustained use of his fire had depleted him rather badly.

The room had stayed in that state for a good long while: Katara sleeping, Sokka sitting quietly beside her, Suki at the door and Aang in the far corner, slumped against the wall pretending to be asleep. A few minutes ago, however, Suki had stood up, taking Sokka with her. Now, Toph vaguely noticed their footsteps returning to the room, but did not pay them any undue attention until Suki came to stand beside her, holding out a bowl.

"Thanks, Honey." As glad as she was to get the meal, it wasn't until she swallowed the first mouthful of noodles that she realized how truly hungry she was. The bowl was empty within minutes.

When had she last eaten, she wondered? It hadn't been breakfast; she had been too busy chasing down the assassin, then questioning the assassin, then questioning Kei Lo, then getting the medicine, and at any rate her stomach had been in too much turmoil to eat. It must have been dinner the previous night, then, when Zuko had welcomed them to the Fire Nation by throwing a feast in their honor. That dinner now seemed like it had happened a million years ago.

Once everyone had been fed, the room settled once again. Bowls were set down close to those who were sleeping, but no one woke either Iroh or Katara, and Aang chose to ignore his dinner. Toph, in the meantime, continued her monitoring, but even though the food had revived her, she found her eyelids drooping as the time wore on and realized that she hadn't exactly had a restful night's sleep either, not to mention her internal clock told her that it was now somewhere between midnight and early morning. Maybe she'd have to take her turn sleeping just as soon as Sugar Queen woke up—make that definitely, she thought as she opened her mouth in a wide yawn.

No sooner had she finished the thought, however, than she was jolted wide awake—not by a sudden noise or movement, but rather, by something's sudden absence.

"Katara? Katara, he's not breathing!"

* * *

**A/N:** Evil cliffhanger because I am evil.

Well, here it is—the part you've all been waiting for. (Or at least the part that _I've_ been waiting for; I can't really speak for anyone else.) To anyone who hasn't figured out which part of the chapter I'm talking about... Iroh. Reunion. *squeals in an incredibly undignified manner*

The healing scenes in this chapter were heavily inspired by a Ted Talk by Abraham Verghese, who speaks extensively on the importance of the human touch in medicine, and of doctors retaining compassion and empathy for their patients. Needless to say, that talk stuck in my mind for a long time, and I think that it's relevant to Katara's healing methods in particular.

Still don't know quite what to do with Mai, but I did want to show that just because she and Zuko have broken up again that doesn't mean she's going to start acting like a vengeful woman scorned. I guess what I was going for is that breakups happen, they're not always due solely to the fault of one party, and that both people can still conduct themselves civilly and even care for each other afterwards.


	4. Rock Bottom

"Katara, he's not breathing!"

Immediately, Aang was jolted out of his would-be sleep as dread shot through his body. _No, no, no, no, no, no, no—!_

Katara, however, was faster; she was awake instantly and at Zuko's side within seconds, pushing away anyone else who tried to gather round. "Give me _space!_"

Water leaped from the nearby bowl and to her hands. She frantically pressed it to his midsection, his throat, his back, but to no avail: though the water glowed with a healing blue light, Zuko's chest still failed to rise and fall.

"No," she sobbed at last as the glow faded and the water pooled lifelessly over Zuko's chest, her blue eyes welling with tears. "No…"

"No!" Iroh's cry was even more frantic, the panic in his eyes plain for all to see. "Zuko, please, no!" Tears were streaming down his face. "Katara, _please!_"

"I'm sorry." She squeezed her eyes shut. "I've done everything I can. But healing takes time, and he doesn't _have_ any more time unless we can get some air into his lungs—" Her eyes flew wide, her head shot up and she looked straight at him. "Aang! I need you over here, _now!_"

He hurried to obey, the others hastily moving aside to make room for him. When he stood across from Katara, she looked at him, her eyes deadly serious.

"Aang, you're an airbender. Right now, the only chance Zuko's got is if you help him breathe."

He was unable to suppress the gasp that followed. Katara was looking at him expectantly, with an intense mixture of hope and fear, but he suddenly found himself overwhelmed by a memory, the memory of the day he had earned his tattoos…

_"Congratulations, my pupil!" Aang was absently kneading the skin on his forehead, which was still sore from the repeated jabs of the needle, but he couldn't hold back a grin at the sight of Gyatso coming to greet him. "So how does it feel to be the youngest master in air nomad history?"_

_ "I could never have done it without such a great teacher." Clasping his hands together, he gave a brief bow. "Thank you, Sifu Gyatso." The formality of the moment was broken, however, when he launched himself forward and wrapped his arms around his teacher's waist._

_ "You are quite welcome, Aang." Gyatso's arms tightened briefly around him before letting go. "Now come with me, my young pupil. There is one last thing I have to show you as your teacher."_

_ Interest piqued, Aang followed quickly after his teacher as he took up his glider. "What is it, Gyatso?"_

_ "Something that everyone must learn upon achieving airbending mastery." They had reached a fairly isolated point on the temple ledge, and Gyatso turned to look at him, glider still folded. "I believe that it is especially important for one as young as yourself."_

_ Though Aang's happiness at his accomplishment hadn't dimmed, there was something in Gyatso's voice that made him straighten his back and turn to look his teacher in the eye, to show that he knew that whatever Gyatso was about to show him was serious and that he would treat it with the respect it deserved. "I'm ready."_

_ "I knew that you would be." Gyatso nodded with approval. "Now follow me."_

_ Gyatso led him through the air to the opposite side of the mountain from the temple, where a natural recess had been stabilized and expanded. The elder who was at the entrance stood aside for them, allowing Gyatso to lead him into a room filled floor to ceiling with shelves that were stacked to the brim with scrolls._

_ "Woah." Aang's mouth hung open, a grin of delight spreading across his face as he took it all in. "How come I never knew about this place before?"_

_ "The Secret Library is forbidden to anyone who has not yet attained mastery—and for good reason. Do you know why the Air Nomads are pacifists, Aang?"_

_ Aang was somewhat taken aback by the sudden change in conversation topic, but thought he should do his best to answer regardless. Gyatso had never asked him anything without good reason. "I always thought it was just because it was the right thing to do."_

_ "You are correct, my pupil, but there is also another reason." He began to move around the periphery of the room, and Aang followed. "The truth is that we must take special care for the sake of those around us, because ours is in fact the most deadly of all the bending arts."_

_ "Wait a minute… airbending is deadly? But we don't even have any offensive techniques!"_

_ "We do not make use of any offensive techniques," Gyatso corrected gently. "We keep records of them here, in this library, where the master airbenders can study them for academic purposes only. We do not teach them to apprentices."_

_ "But I still don't get how airbending is deadly!" He knew that it was disrespectful to argue with his master, but Gyatso had always encouraged him to ask questions whenever there was something he didn't understand, and this lesson in particular was already making his head feel much as it had those first few times he'd tried out his air scooter idea, and had ended up getting spun around repeatedly only to be unceremoniously thrown against the nearest available wall. "I mean… it's just air! Yeah, it can hurt if you get hit with it too hard, but I don't see how that's worse than a rock to the head, or a fireball to the face, or being dragged underwater." He sank cross-legged to the ground as he talked, propping his chin in his hand as he tried to work out this puzzle._

_ "Think about it, Aang." Gyatso sat down across from him, always the patient teacher. "You say that it is 'just' air not because air is insignificant, but because it is so ubiquitous that you have come to take it for granted. All four of the elements are important in their own way, but there is not a single human who can survive for more than a few minutes without air."_

_ "I… guess that makes sense." A truly horrifying thought occurred to him then. "So you're saying that just because I'm an airbender, I could end someone's life, just like that? Just by taking away their air?"_

_ Gyatso nodded grimly. "That, and more. The healers of the Water Tribes could tell you that the human body exists in a delicate balance—too much air in the wrong places will kill just as surely and far more swiftly than air deprivation, and in ways that are rather more messy and painful, as well."_

_ A shiver went through him, and Aang drew his legs in close to his body, hugging his knees against his chest. "I think I'm gonna have nightmares tonight…"_

_ "I am not sharing this with you to upset you, Aang, and I regret that I have caused you such grief." Gyatso moved close enough to wrap an arm around his shoulders, and Aang leaned against him, taking comfort from his embrace. "I am only reminding you of why, as an airbender, you must always take great care with your art." Aang nodded, his face still buried in Gyatso's robes, and the arm tightened around him. "If anything, that this information has caused you such distress gives me great hope that you will never be tempted to use any of the techniques you might learn here."_

Aang's breath hitched as the memory ended. He did in fact know of a technique to move air into a person's lungs, but it was intended to be deadly, its purpose to kill from the inside out. What's more, he had only managed to read half the scroll before he had become too horrified to continue, and of course he had never practiced it in its original form, much less modified it to the extent that it would be necessary here.

"I… I don't know if I can do this, Katara." He looked down at his friend, and saw to his alarm that Zuko's lips had already acquired a tinge of blue—but the possibility of what Aang could do to him, with even a little bit of well-meaning airbending… "This isn't like flying, or making an air scooter. If I mess up—even a little—I could very easily kill him."

"I know." Katara leaned forward to cover his hands with her own, and in that moment he knew that she knew exactly what she was asking of him. "But if you don't at least try, we're going to lose him for sure."

Aang took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll try."

"Don't worry, Twinkletoes," Toph reassured, her feet and hands alike pressed firmly to the floor. "I'll be sure to let you know if you're going too far." He nodded his thanks.

"What do you need from us?" Iroh asked.

"Absolute quiet. I can't afford any distractions right now."

Sokka nodded. "We should probably let the palace staff know as well." Simultaneously, he and Suki got up and moved to the door.

Again, Aang steadied his breathing. He had to get this right, and he had to get it right the first time. The consequences of failure were just too awful to think about.

_You can do it. I know you can. You're a talented kid._

Focusing all of his concentration on his task, Aang bent the first breath of air into Zuko's lungs.

* * *

It was a tense few minutes, and at first Aang's work proceeded in fits and starts. Eventually, however, he got the hang of it, and when he and Zuko began to breathe in unison, with no sudden stops or terse warnings from Toph, everyone let out a breath they were not aware they had been holding.

The occupants of the room also exchanged a few uneasy glances, however. What they were thinking went unspoken, but was nevertheless first and foremost in everyone's mind: Aang was the last airbender on the planet, and if he had to stop, for any reason, there was no one else who could take over. They would keep this up until Zuko started breathing on his own again—or Aang collapsed from exhaustion.

The irony was not lost on anyone that, a hundred years after Sozin had wiped out the Air Nomads, his great-grandson was now fighting for his life, only hanging on by a thread thanks to the aid of the Avatar whose extinction he had sought.

Katara, however, did not have time to think, a fact for which she was at least somewhat grateful. She was too busy with her healing, stubbornly clearing chi paths even as they were blocking faster than she could unblock them, and coaxing blood to flow where it was needed most. Even as she worked, however, she knew that she was only providing support. Ultimately, this was something that Zuko would have to fight his way through on his own.

_He's stubborn_, Katara reminded herself. _He spent years searching for the Avatar and months chasing Aang all over the world. He's survived an exploding ship, submersion in polar waters, starvation, __my__ waterbending, and a bolt of lightning to the chest. Zuko's a fighter. He can survive this too._

A flicker of motion caught the corner of her eye, and she turned to see that Sokka and Suki (face now clean of makeup) were coming back into the room, carrying a large bucket of water between them. Most of this went to replenish her bending water, for which she smiled in thanks; the rest was poured into cups and passed around. Katara took hers in one continuous swallow before getting back to work; Iroh only drank a few sips before setting his portion aside. Sokka set a full glass beside Toph, who was now taking her turn to sleep, curled up on the floor with her back pressed up against the foot of Zuko's bed. Suki, meanwhile, picked her way across the room to stand by Aang, holding the last glass of water out to him.

Knowing full well the potential consequences of distracting him, she did not touch him or speak, did not even make any motions to get his attention. Instead, Suki simply stood beside him, close but not close enough to potentially startle him, and waited for him to notice her.

It took him a few minutes, but eventually Aang's eyes flicked over to where she stood. Suki held out the glass of water, indicating he should take it—he was only using one hand to bend the air at this point, and could easily afford the attention to drink if he needed to. At the sight of the water, Aang's eyes widened slightly, and he licked dry lips—but then he let out a sigh and turned away in a refusal that couldn't have been plainer if he'd said it out loud.

Katara realized that Aang wasn't drinking because as things were at the moment, he couldn't even afford a trip to the bathroom.

Catching Suki's eye across the bed, Katara sent her an intense look and shook her head, telling her without words to respect Aang's decision. Thankfully, the other girl got the message and moved instead to slump against the far wall next to Sokka, pillowing her head on his shoulder. They were asleep within minutes.

Now, the only ones awake were Aang, Iroh and herself. The night crawled by with agonizing slowness. Once, Katara raised her head to glance out the window, and saw faint streaks of light on the horizon. After what she could have sworn amounted to several hours, she looked again, to see that the only the barest tinge of color had been added.

The morning sky was streaked with fiery yellow when Katara noticed something that made her smile in relief. Zuko's condition had not _improved_, per se—his body was still only hanging on by the barest thread, and he still could not breathe without Aang's assistance—but he was no longer actively deteriorating, either. It seemed that the medicine had finally taken effect, and they were nearly through the worst.

Nevertheless, she continued to work on Zuko throughout the rest of the morning, concentrating her healing powers on the vital organs that were on the brink of shutting down because of the poison. The task was a wearing one. She might have gotten some rest during the earlier part of the night, but it hadn't been nearly enough to make up for her earlier lack of sleep coupled with the steady depletion of her energy, and Katara found herself once again swaying where she stood. By the time that Toph woke up, mere minutes before noon, Katara had decided that she was going to need to sleep again, and soon, before her body made the decision for her.

Yawning, she bent her water back into the bowl and made her way over to Toph, trying not to stagger as she went. A touch to the younger girl's shoulder conveyed her request; a thumbs-up from the blind earthbender assured that it would be granted. Reassured that Zuko would be looked after during her absence, however brief, and that she would be notified right away in the event of another emergency, Katara slipped out of the room to take care of a much-needed bathroom break before she slept—among other things.

Sokka was already in the kitchen. Wordlessly, he passed her a bowl as she came in—it seemed they had grown used to not speaking, to communicating without words even when not dictated by necessity. The staff, too, was quiet, conversing in whispers that were hastily hushed whenever they came within hearing distance of Katara or her brother. Even Sokka, every few minutes, would turn toward her with his mouth open as if to speak, but then thought better of it and went back to his noodles.

As she finished her breakfast, handing her bowl to a passing servant with a nod of thanks, Sokka reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder. The contact was swift, fleeting, and he only gave a brief squeeze before letting go, but she nevertheless smiled slightly in thanks, brushing her fingers lightly over his before he could decide that such an offer of comfort was too unmanly and withdraw.

Not wanting to torture Aang, she made sure to drink her fill of water while she was still in the kitchen. Before she left, however, she gave a hushed request to one of the cooks—to make up a thick broth, without meat, without any ingredients at all that would require chewing or the use of utensils, to be sent back with Sokka whenever he was ready to leave. Aang might have been resisting water, but he would need to keep up his strength—she felt a pang of guilt at the thought that she was about to sleep, when he didn't even have the luxury of sitting down.

_It's for the best_, she reminded herself as she walked back to the room, traversing the hallways of the Fire Palace in a fuzzy-headed haze. _You know it, and you know that Aang knows it too. We'll __all__ be able to rest after this is over._

With that thought—she _refused_ to think anything otherwise—she turned the final corner that would bring her back to the infirmary, only to find Iroh waiting for her outside the door.

He looked tired. Dark circles stood out under his eyes, and his normally jovial expression was nowhere to be found, his face instead dragged down by desperation and grief. In spite of his gray hair and obvious wrinkles, Katara had never before thought of him as _old_. Yet now, as he stood before her, eyes downcast, he was no longer the Dragon of the West, the Fire Nation's most renowned general. He was simply Zuko's uncle, begging her to tell him what would happen to his son, and Katara thought she had never seen anyone who looked older.

"Tell me honestly," he said, before she could even open her mouth or get her tired brain to find the words that were needed. "Everything—one way or the other."

Katara rubbed her forehead—not in exasperation with him, but because she was so tired and so worn and so worried for her friend. It was a few minutes before she found the right words, but Iroh waited patiently. Patience, at least, was one thing that he had in abundance—the man had raised Zuko, after all.

"He's got a chance," she admitted at last. "It… isn't a very good chance. At the moment, his condition isn't deteriorating anymore, but he's at a very low point right now—and he could start slipping away again at any time."

"I see." He turned back to the door, staring at it as if his gaze could pierce the wood. "Is there any hope at all?"

"There might be." She rubbed her arms. "Tonight is the full moon."

"I see. Then you should rest now."

"I will." Her last word ended on a yawn. Before moving into the room, however, she turned to Iroh. "You should rest too."

He smiled then, sadly. "You still have the potential to do something useful, a potential which will be helped by rest. I can do nothing—all I have is the choice to waste time, or cherish it. I think that the sun is helping him now," Iroh added quietly before she eased open the door. "Hopefully the moon will help him too."

* * *

In spite of her weariness, Katara slept fitfully. Even after curling up on her pallet with the curtains drawn, she tossed and turned for what seemed like an eternity before drifting off into an uneasy sleep that didn't feel like sleep at all. Dreams came to her then, dreams that felt real; she would hear Iroh's sob, feel Sokka dragging her stone-weary body out of bed with the pronouncement that Aang had collapsed, that Zuko had died while she slept, only for her eyes to fly open to see Aang still at his post and Toph still at hers, Zuko still hanging on (if only just), and Sokka still snoring beside her with Suki curled up against him. When this happened she would breathe a sigh of relief, spare one last glance for Iroh (who was holding a cool cloth to Zuko's forehead and hadn't moved once), close her eyes once more and try to sleep again, for everyone's sake.

By the time that the natural light in the room began to dim once more, Katara did not feel rested. She was, however, no longer on the verge of collapse, and she supposed that that would have to do. Wearily, she pushed aside the blankets and got to her feet—the last streaks of sunlight were streaming in through the window, painting the room blood-red.

She was, it seemed, the last one to awaken. Suki handed her a bowl as she sat up, her hair tangling in a ratty mess down her back; Sokka was already eating. Katara swallowed her breakfast gratefully, the food reviving her far more effectively than her attempt at sleep. Once she had eaten, she pushed herself to her feet. Toph also stirred slightly as she stood, but only when Katara touched a hand to her shoulder did the blind earthbender give a nod, yawn, and curl up on the floor to take her own turn to sleep.

Dipping her hands into the large bowl of water, Katara got back to work. Though gratified to find that Zuko's condition had not deteriorated further while she'd slept, she also felt a jolt of worry that he had not shown any improvement or regained consciousness, nor had he started breathing on his own. Aang was still working doggedly away without a single complaint, but the dark circles under his eyes were plain for all to see, and Katara noted to her alarm that his hands were now trembling slightly as well. The last time that Aang had tried to go without sleep… well, she didn't even want to think about what would happen if he started hallucinating again. She knew right then that she was going to have to heal Zuko at least enough to restore his breathing, and do it tonight—if she didn't, there wasn't going to be another chance.

With that thought in mind, she focused all of her concentration on his lungs. Though she knew that her healing would be more efficient if she had had access to Zuko's back, changing his position was a risk that she wasn't yet willing to take, not with Aang in the state he was in. So instead, she concentrated her energy on his midsection and on the muscle Yugoda had once taught her controlled the breathing—and which, in Zuko's case, seemed to have seized up and stopped working.

As the sky outside darkened, Katara could feel the tug of the rising Moon, pushing and pulling the water of the oceans, lending its strength to her own. Even as her healing powers peaked, however, as the last rays of the sun slipped below the horizon she once more found Zuko's condition beginning to deteriorate: without the strength of the sun to sustain him, he was going to start slipping away from them once again.

_Just focus on getting him breathing again._ Her hands shook even as the water she wielded was suffused with a blue glow.

_Please, Yue_, she thought. _I know that Zuko's done a lot of wrong in his life. I know he took Aang away from the Spirit Oasis right when he was needed most, that if not for him, you might not have had to sacrifice your life—and for that I am sorry. But I also know that you were a very kind person in life, and that you have never held a grudge against anyone. I know that it was you who called back La's wrath and saved us all. I know that if you've been watching Zuko at all, you've seen that he's been doing everything in his power to make things right. So please. Help me heal him now._

For the moment, nothing happened. Then, however, her body seemed filled to the brim with a liquid energy, she _felt_ the tug of the Moon on her spirit, and Katara knew that her prayer had been answered.

_Thank you._ As she bent to her task once again, she found that her senses were clearer, sharper—though the damage to Zuko's chi had been apparent to her from the beginning and further details on his body's shutdown had become increasingly more evident the longer she worked, this time she could locate the ravages the poison had worked on every muscle and organ—and if she could find it, she had a chance of fixing it.

With renewed determination, Katara started what she could not do before and began methodically sweeping the poison from his system, clearing it away particle by particle from the places it had settled in his body. The process required massive amounts of water in order to trap the poison and to direct it where _she_ wanted it to go, and before long Sokka and Suki were hauling bucket after bucket in and out the door—clean water being brought in, while that tinged with blood and tainted by poison was moved quickly out of the room, to be disposed of in a way that wouldn't pose a danger to other people.

Every once in a while, when she was in between buckets, Katara would pause to assess her work. She finally seemed to be making some headway, rather than constantly fighting against a continuous backslide, but there was so much damage that had already been done. However the rest of this night played out, Zuko was going to have a long recovery ahead of him—if, that was, he made a full recovery at all.

_Right now, I just need to make sure that he gets out alive. We'll deal with the rest as it comes._

With that, she focused on drawing out what should have been the last of the toxins. As she threw another two handfuls of soiled water into the empty bucket, however, she noticed to her worry that even the act of healing, of drawing poison, seemed to be putting an additional strain on Zuko's body. When she rested her fingers against the side of his neck, it was to find his skin clammy and his pulse racing.

_Come on_, she thought. _You can hold on just a little longer. One more ought to do it…_ She had isolated the last remaining traces of the poison; once she removed those, his system should be clean and he'd be able to start healing for real. Taking a deep breath, she drew out the water, focusing all of her concentration on holding the toxins…

_There!_ Katara smiled grimly as she pulled the water away from his skin, carrying the last of the poison with it. Even as she dropped the water into the waste bucket, however, Zuko's body gave a shudder—and then went still.

_No!_ The thought shot through her with a jab of dread. _No no no, we can't lose him now, I was __so close__—!_

When she placed her hand against his chest, however, her touch was greeted by a deafening stillness.

_He doesn't have a heartbeat._ For the moment, she could only stand there, frozen. Her palm rested against Zuko's chest, fingers brushing up against his lightning scar—the scar he had gotten saving _her_ life, and she hadn't even been able to return the favor, in spite of all her efforts…

"Katara."

Everyone in the room started. Aang had demanded complete silence, and they had done everything in their power to give it to him: her name was the first word spoken in that room in nearly twenty-four hours. Nobody, however, had expected that Aang would be the one to speak.

He hadn't moved from his position, nor had he stopped his airbending, in spite of the fact that he had to know what was going on: the devastation that was plain on her face as her fingers clenched over Zuko's heart could not have meant anything else. When he looked at her, however, his eyes, though deeply shadowed, were clear and determined: he still had his wits about him, in spite of his lack of sleep.

"He's not gone yet," Aang continued. "If Zuko's spirit had left his body, I would know it."

"As would I." Iroh's voice, in contrast to his earlier pleading, was eerily calm. "Zuko is going to keep fighting as long as we do. Do not give up on him, Katara." In spite of the control with which he spoke, the look in his yellow eyes was intense—like molten fire.

"Right." Standing up straight, she nodded—and in that moment Katara knew what it was that she would have to do. The only way to keep Zuko alive at this point was to restart his heart.

The light of the full Moon washed over her. With the aid of its power, she could _feel_ the presence of every drop of water in the room: the water she'd been using for her healing, the sweat on her own body… the blood in Zuko's veins. Grimly, she raised her hand against the backdrop of the Moon.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Bringing the hand down in the gesture Hama had taught her, she _forced_ Zuko's heart to beat.

Even unconscious, he let out a groan and jerked away as the pain of bloodbending worked its way through his body… Iroh moved to hold him down, whispering something that Katara couldn't hear over the pounding of her own blood in her ears… Sokka and Suki were looking on in horror, Sokka with a hand over his mouth as if trying not to be sick… Toph had her feet drawn up to her chest, a hand pressed to either side of her head…

Katara stopped bloodbending. She had held on for maybe ten beats at most, but it had felt like hours of suspense, of inflicting agony on her friend to save his life. In spite of the fact that she had barely exerted herself at all, she was breathing hard.

_It's not over yet_, she reminded herself grimly. If Zuko's body didn't start functioning on its own, there was only so much she—or anyone else, for that matter—would be able to do, and she only had until moonset to do it. With that dark thought in mind, she laid her fingers once more against Zuko's chest.

The heartbeat was there. It was irregular, and jerky, and far too fast, but it was there. Immediately she coated her hands with water and pressed them to his chest, concentrating all of her will to repair the damage to the organ, to soothe it back into a regular beat that would sustain his body on its own. After a few minutes, she withdrew the water, and this time, when she pressed her fingers to the side of Zuko's neck, it was to find that his pulse was steady and strong. She smiled in relief.

Even as she counted the beats, Zuko's eyelids began to flutter, and he blinked open groggy yellow eyes to look at her with a mixture of confusion and fear.

"Hey." Katara found it impossible to hide her wide grin. "Welcome back."

His eyes flicked from her over to Iroh, and then to Aang at his other side. His lips moved as if to ask a question, but Iroh stopped him before he could start.

"No, nephew. Do not try to speak." His fingers tightened around Zuko's hand. "You must not make Aang's job harder than it already is."

"You stopped breathing about a day ago," Katara explained, even as she began healing again with renewed determination. "Aang's been keeping you alive ever since."

Thankfully, he obeyed and stayed still, even as discomfort flashed across his face. Katara imagined that having another person literally breathe for you could not have been a pleasant experience—and giving the way her healing was going, it was unfortunately about to get a whole lot worse.

"Okay," she said at last, throwing her water to the side. "I don't think I'm going to be able to use water healing to get your lungs working again." Zuko's good eye widened in panic, but before he could react further, she went on. "I'm going to have to restart your breathing the same way I restarted your heart—with bloodbending."

He knew what she was talking about—she could see it in his eyes. He'd asked her about it, once, after their confrontation with the Southern Raiders. At the time, she'd still been raw and tender of spirit, from the old wound of her mother's death and Hama's lessons alike, and had answered in short, clipped sentences—but she'd still told him.

He held her gaze for a moment longer, and when his eyes closed in resignation, she knew she had his permission. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but notice the way his fingers curled to grasp his uncle's hand, where before he had remained limp and unresponsive, letting Iroh do what he wanted but not returning the gesture. Katara pretended she hadn't seen. Zuko had already had his dignity compromised enough, and in all honesty she couldn't blame him for being afraid.

She'd had this done to her before. It was agonizing. She'd never been so scared in her life as she had been that night, when the very water in her body had started moving to someone else's command and her limbs had had no choice but to follow, the muscles twisting in ways they hadn't been meant to move. As intense as it was, however, even the physical pain had paled in comparison to the realization that her body was no longer her own—that she was now nothing more than the puppet of another, that her own hand could easily be turned to slay her brother, or Aang, and now she was about to do it to one of her friends…

_You're saving his life_, she reminded herself. _Do you hear that, Hama? You taught me bloodbending so I could punish the Fire Nation in your stead—but I am going to __own__ this technique. I hope you find out someday that I used your lessons to save the Fire Lord's life._

With a gesture, she cued Aang to stop his airbending. Immediately Zuko began to struggle for air, panic lighting his face as he realized that he was, in fact, incapable of breathing on his own. Katara, however, was ready: raising her hand to the Moon, she began to push and pull at the muscles that worked his lungs, easing them out of their torpor as gently as she was able, marveling at just how much the act of breathing was akin to the ebb and flow of the ocean tides.

As expected, the experience was not a pleasant one for Zuko: tears spilled from his good eye, and every muscle in his body locked up at once; he was, it seemed, incapable of moving. "Hold on," she murmured over her bending, "I'm almost done…"

Finally, she was. Tentatively, she eased her control over Zuko's blood, ready to take hold again if her work had not been effective—but then he took a shuddering gasp, and another, and another after that. Every breath shook with effort and residual pain—but he _was_ breathing.

"Th-thank…" He only managed the single word, however, before his voice failed him. Immediately Iroh's hand was beneath his head, the other hand holding a cup to his lips, making him take the water in slow, tiny sips. Katara was gratified to see that this time, he managed to keep it down.

"Katara?" She looked up, to see that everyone else in the room was watching her intensely. "Is everything… I mean, is he going to be…?"

She smiled. "I think that he's going to be fine, thanks to you. You can rest now, Aang."

No sooner had she spoke than Aang's legs gave out from under him. Katara managed to catch him before he hit the floor—and a few seconds of holding water to his head told her that there was nothing wrong with him that couldn't be fixed by a good night's sleep; he was only exhausted.

"Rest now," she repeated, gently lowering him to the floor. She planted a swift kiss on his forehead. "I'm proud of you." Aang was asleep before he was even fully on the ground, a goofy grin spreading over his face.

Unable to hide her smile of relief, Katara gathered the water to her hands once more and turned back to Zuko, ready to spend the rest of the night taking full advantage of the power the Moon had granted her.

He was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

**A/N:** It probably seems like Aang's taking his sweet time having flashbacks while his friend's dying in front of him, but really, that memory flashed through his head in a matter of seconds. The mind does weird tricks like that sometimes.

Fun Origin Story time: This fic came about due to me wondering whether I could come up with a legitimate use for bloodbending.

There are potentially horrible uses for all four types of bending—bloodbending for water, and it's been established fanon for a while that airbending can potentially be used in horrible ways. Given the number of Fire Nation skeletons that were surrounding him, I for one am convinced that Gyatso at least did something less-than-pacifistic to defend the air temple during the genocide—and it's gratifying (if somewhat terrifying) to see the possibility at least confirmed in _Korra_ Season 3. Yet in this story, it was modified versions of those very techniques that eventually saved Zuko's life. As a matter of fact, if there's a theme to this story at all, it's that methods and techniques are no more good or evil than the people using them—forbidden techniques are forbidden because of their potential to do great harm, but in the right hands and with a bit of creativity, they can also do a great deal of good.

At any rate, aside from a potential epilogue that I'm still considering, that marks the end of this story (I did say it was going to be short). I know I'm hardly the first to come up with something like this, but this is my personal take on the situation and it was rather fun to write. Thanks for sticking with me!


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